RAR.Y 
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UNIVERSITY 
OF    ILLINOIS 

97731 


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WR2 
APR  2 

FEB  0  3| 


JIM  2  02001 


81985 
3  1986 


SEP  0  9 1 

OCT  1|7 

JUL  1 

OCT  28 

AlJG  0  8  1997 

WAV  0;J 
NAY2»  jaS 

nm 


L161— O-1096 


REMINISCENCES 
OF  EAELY  CHICAGO 
AND  VICINITY 


REMINISCENCES 
OF  EARLY  CHICAGO 
AND  VICINITY 


EDWIN   O.    GALE 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

W.  E.  S.  TROWBRLDGE 


Chicago  New  York  Toronto 

Fleming   H.    Revell   Company 

London        &        Edinburgh 
MCMII 


COPYRIGHT,    IQO2, 

BY     FLEMING     H. 

REVKLL     COMPANY 

October 


TO  MY  SIX  SONS, 

WHO   HAVE   ALWAYS  TAKEN 

SO  MUCH  INTEREST  IN  MY  STORIES  OP 

EARLY  CHICAGO,  THESE  REMINISCENCES 

ARE   MOST   AFFECTIONATELY 

DEDICATED 


PREFACE 

"Youth,  like  softened  wax,  with  ease  will  take 
Those  images  that  first  impressions  make." 

The  evolution  of  Chicago  from  an  insignificant 
trading  post  to  what  it  is  to-day,  occurring,  as  it  has, 
during  the  continuous  residence  within  its  borders  of 
a  person  who,  as  Holmes  would  say,  is  but  68  years 
young,  seems  more  like  a  fairy  story  than  an  historical 
reality. 

I  shall  not  endeavor  to  make  an  exact  chronological 
statement  of  the  incidents  of  our  remarkable  develop- 
ment, but  rather  to  view  the  ground  in  its  primal 
state  and  speak  of  the  early  toilers  who  planted  the 
seeds  which  have  produced  the  results  so  marvelous 
in  themselves  and  of  such  interest  to  us  and  posterity. 

My  purpose  is  to  draw  the  curtain  (every  day  be- 
coming more  difficult  to  do),  which  conceals  the  slowly 
fading  past  from  the  rapidly  changing  present,  that 
the  reader  may  acquire,  as  I  did,  some  knowledge  of 
the  characteristics  of  the  men  who  planted  the  orchard 
whose  fruit  is  now  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  every 
land. 

It  was  at  an  early  age  that  I  began  to  make  mental 
record  of  events  connected  with  our  growth,  and  but  a 
few  years  later,  when  I  commenced  to  jot  down  at 
my  father's  dictation,  or  in  reply  to  the  questions  I 
asked  him,  many  of  the  facts  which  I  shall  now  at- 


6  PREFACE 

tempt  to  combine  into  a  plain,  though  truthful  nar- 
rative of  the  early  days  of  our  city  and  vicinity.  And 
possibly,  as  the  shuttle  of  thought  plays  through  the 
loom  of  memory,  weaving  the  present  with  the  past, 
the  fabric,  upon  completion,  may  resemble  one  of  those 
crazy  quilts  of  our  dear  old  grandmothers,  which 
represented  a  vast  amount  of  painstaking,  conscien- 
tious labor,  for  which  we  alway  give  them  credit, 
though  their  handiwork  may  not  appeal  to  a  culti- 
vated taste  as  particularly  artistic. 

It  has  long  been  the  earnest  wish  of  my  children 
and  the  desire  of  some  personal  friends  that  I  should 
do  something  of  this  kind;  and  being  now  released  in 
a  great  measure  from  the  cares  of  an  intensely  active 
business  life,  and  having  reached  a  quiet  and  unsolici- 
tous  age,  I  have  no  excuse  for  longer  delaying  a  task, 
delightful  to  me,  and  that  I  think  will  be  of  inter- 
est to  others. 

As  one  who  near  the  close  of  day 

Shall  pause  upon  some  lofty  knoll, 

Thence  turn  to  trace  the  winding  way 

By  which  he's  reached  his  present  goal, 

May  see  behind  him  opening  wide 

The  vistas  dim  of  shaded  wood, 

While  still  beyond  on  every  side 

Lie  crumbling  trunks  where  monarchs  stood; 

So  I,  in  turning  now  to  view 

The  paths  long  years  my  feet  have  pressed, 

Would  look  beyond  all  objects  new, 

On  early  scenes  my  eyes  would  rest. 

I  would  not  walk  the  present  shade, 

But  where  the  sun  with  golden  rays 

The  tapestry  of  God  displayed, 

Would  talk  with  you  of  early  days.  E.  0.  G. 


LIBRARY 
OF  THE 
UNWEHSITY   Of 


a 


INTRODUCTION 

As  a  few  historical  facts  concerning  Chicago  and 
vicinity  at  and  before  the  time  when  these  reminis- 
cences begin,  will  be  valuable  to  the  reader  in  the 
pages  that  follow,  I  shall  endeavor  to  give  an  idea  of 
conditions  as  they  were  throughout  these  parts,  and 
to  briefly  describe  the  most  important  events  that  pre- 
ceded those  which  came  under  my  personal  notice. 
I  have  before  me  a  wall  map  published  by  Phelps  in 
1832,  "from  the  best  authors,"  from  which  we  can 
probably  obtain  a  more  comprehensive  and  concise 
idea  of  our  surroundings  at  that  time  than  from  any 
other  source.  Instead  of  a  multiplicity  of  cities, 
towns  and  villages  in  our  vicinity,  as  we  find  in  mod- 
ern maps,  we  see  scarcely  anything  except  the  names 
of  lakes  and  rivers,  and  the  settlements  of  Indian 
tribes,  which  are  indicated  in  large  characters  ex- 
tending in  some  instances  across  an  entire  state  or 
territory,  with  a  few  forts  scattered  about  for  the 
safety  of  the  venturesome  and  isolated  settlers. 


OTTAWAS  AND  CHIPPEWAS. 


In  very  large  capitals  covers  the  entire  western  part 

7 


8  INTRODUCTION 

of  Michigan  Territory.    East  of  them,  around  the 
Saginaw  Bay  section,  we  see 


SAGINAWS. 


On  the  St.  Joseph  river,  Fort  Joseph  is  the  only 
evidence  of  the  white  man's  presence;  Detroit  and 
Monroe,  the  only  cities  in  the  Territory;  Spring 
Well  and  Janesville,  on  the  trail  between  Detroit 
and  Chicago,  the  only  towns. 

In  Indiana,  Onatinon  on  the  Wabash  river,  and 
Wayne  on  the  Miami  are  the  only  villages  north  of 
Indianapolis,  above  which  there  is  not  a  single  city. 
The  inscription 

POTTAWATTOMIES. 


occupies  the  entire  northern  portion  of  the  state, 
and  the  name 


MIAMIS. 


extends  from  them  to  the  center. 

As  these  were  friendly  tribes  which  had  relinquished 
their  title  to  the  land,  though  still  permitted  by  the 
treaty  stipulations — as  was  the  usual  custom — to 
occupy  it  for  20  years,  it  required  only  Fort  Adams, 


INTRODUCTION  9 

located  south  of  Wayne,  to  maintain  the  sovereignty 
of  the  Union. 

In  Illinois,  Fort  Dearborn  and  Chicago  are  men- 
tioned, with  Preoris  Ville  on  the  Illinois  river,  be- 
sides which  there  is  not  a  town  or  city  north  of 
Vandalia,  the  capital  of  the  State. 

SAC  GREAT  VILLAGE. 


is  at  the  mouth  of  the  Rock  river,  south  of  which 
extend  the 


MILITARY 

BOUNTY 

LANDS. 


Near  the  head  of  Rock  river  we  read 


ANCIENT  MOUNDS. 


where  in  early  day 

"They   solemnly  and   softly  lay 
Beneath  the  verdure  of  the  plain 
The  warriors'  scattered  bones  away." 

Besides  the  names  of  various  rivers,  including 
Plain-aux-Plaines  (the  present  Des  Plaines),  northern 
Illinois  had  nothing  to  denote  the  existence  of  the 


10  INTRODUCTION 

white  man.  Higher  up,  on  the  Father  of  Waters, 
where  the  Oisconsin  (Wisconsin)  joins  it,  is  the  vil- 
lage of  Prairie  du  Chien  or  Dog-Indian  Village.  But 
over  the  entire  region  not  occupied  by  the  Menomines 
— between  lakes  Michigan  and  Superior — extending 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  North  Western  Territory, 
in  characters  more  pronounced  than  those  indicating 
the  title  of  the  Federal  Government,  boldly  ran  the 
legend 

CHIPPEWA. 


Green  Bay  (Shantytown)  and  Fort  Howard  were 
swallowed  up  in  the  more  important 


MEHOMINY  VILLAGE. 


The  Pottawattomies,  designated  as  occupying 
Northern  Indiana,  also  extended  to  Chicago  and 
made  it  and  the  vicinity  their  hunting  and  trapping 
gruond. 

Such  was  the  territory  tributary  to  the  settlement 
at  Chicago  three  years  before  I  arrived. 

Turning  from  this  map,  designating  the  homes  of 
the  Aborigines  within  my  time,  to  a  modern  one  giving 
no  intimation  that  they  ever  existed  save  in  the  names 
of  the  rivers  and  of  a  few  towns,  we  are  reminded  of 
the  lines  of  Mrs.  Hemans: 


INTRODUCTION  11 

"  Ye  say  they  all  have  passed  away 

That  noble  race  and  brave. 
That  their  light  canoes  have  vanished 

From  off  the  crested  wave. 
That  midst  the  forests  where  they  roved 

There  rings  no  hunter's  shout, 
But  their  name  is  on  your  waters, 

And  ye  may  not  wash  it  out." 

On  August  24th,  1816,  the  Pottawattomies  ceded 
to  the  United  States  Government  a  tract  of  land  20 
miles,  wide  between  Ottawa  and  Chicago.  The  land 
upon  which  the  densest  part  of  the  city  stands,  how- 
ever, was  conveyed  by  the  Miamis  to  the  Government 
on  August  7th,  1795,  by  a  treaty  made  at  Greenville, 
Ohio,  with  "  Mad  Anthony" — General  Wayne — and  is 
described  as  "  one  piece  of  land  six  miles  square  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Chickajo  river  emptying  into  the  south- 
west end  of  Lake  Michigan,  where  a  fort  formerly 
stood/'  indicating  that  the  French  had  fortifications 
at  this  end  of  the  important  portage  between  the 
lakes  and  the  Mississippi  before  General  Dearborn  was 
wearing  epaulets.  Black  Partridge,  as  an  acknowl- 
edgment of  his  services  in  this  transfer  and  of  his 
friendship  for  the  whites,  received  a  medal  from 
President  Madison,  of  which  he  was  extremely  proud. 

Scientists  explain  the  causes  of  the  various  ocean 
currents,  trade  winds  and  many  other  wonderful  and 
marvelous  operations  of  nature,  but  few  have  ever 
been  able  to  account  for  the  early  tide  of  immigra- 
tion, or  give  a  valid  reason  why  the  constantly 
growing  current  of  humanity  should  flow  to  the 
little,  shallow,  obscure  stream,  known  by  the  Indians 


12  INTRODUCTION 

and  trappers  who  dwelt  in  the  vicinity  or  employed 
it  in  their  portages  as  the  Che-ca-gou.  Some  had 
unquestionably  believed  in  its  great  future,  their  faith 
being  attested  by  their  presence.  Yet  but  few  early 
travelers  or  settlers  have  left  on  record  their  reasons 
for  such  faith.  One  man,  however,  in  1682 — more 
than  two  centuries  ago — predicted  a  wonderful  career 
for  our  city,  and  gave  such  an  argument  for  his  judg- 
ment as  to  stamp  him  a  person  of  such  exceptional 
foresight  that  his  marvelously  accurate  prediction 
seems  almost  the  offspring  of  inspiration. 

I  quote  from  a  letter  of  the  brave  and  distinguished 
explorer,  Robert  Cavalier  de  La  Salle,  to  a  friend  in 
France : 

"  After  many  toils  I  came  to  the  head  of  the  great 
lake  and  rested  for  some  days  on  the  bank  of  a  river 
of  feeble  current^now^flowing  into  the  lake,  but  which 
^  occupies  the  course  that  formerly  the  waters  of  these 
great  lakes  took  as  they  flowed  southward  to  the 
Mississippi  River.  This  is  the  lowest  point  on  the 
divide  between  the  two  great  valleys  of  the  St.  Law- 
rence and  the  Mississippi.  The  boundless  regions  of 
the  West  must  send  their  products  to  the  East  through 
this  point.  This  will  be  the  gate  of  empire,  this  the 
seat  of  commerce.  Everything  invites  to  action. 
The  typical  man  who  will  grow  up  here  must  be  an 
enterprising  man.  Each  day  as  he  rises  he  will  ex- 
claim, '  I  act,  I  move,  I  push,'  and  there  will  be  spread 
before  him  a  boundless  horizon,  an  illimitable  field  of 
activity;  a  limitless  expanse  of  plain  is  here — to  the 
east  water  and  at  all  other  points  land.  If  I  were  to 


INTRODUCTION  13 

give  this  place  a  name  I  would  derive  it  from  the 
nature  of  the  place  and  the  nature  of  the  man  who 
will  occupy  this  place — ago,  I  act;  circum,  all  around; 
Circago." 

The  recollections  of  this  statement,  imparted  to 
an  Indian  chief,  remained  but  indistinctly,  and  when 
the  Americans  who  built  Fort  Dearborn  came  to  these 
wilds,  they  heard  what  they  thought  to  be  the  legend- 
ary name  of  the  place,  and  pronounced  it  as  did  the 
Indians,  Che-ca-go  instead  of  Circago,  as  LaSalle 
had  named  it. 

Gladly  among  the  brilliants  of  that  prophecy  do  we 
find  the  jewel  of  our  name.  By  the  Circago  of  La 
Salle  in  its  transition  from  the  Latin  "  circum  ago," 
through  the  Che-ca-gou  of  the  Pottawattomies  to  the 
Chicago  of  to-day,  is  forever  banished  the  "Wild 
onion"  and  the  "Pole-cat"  theories  with  which  un- 
feeling nomenclators  sought  to  blast  us. 

Let  us  be  thankful  to  the  gifted  Frenchman  for 
giving  us  a  name  so  in  harmony  with  his  remarkable 
prediction  and  with  the  characteristics  of  our  city 
and  people. 

In  April,  1802,  the  United  States  supply  schooner, 
Tracy,  by  many  claimed  to  have  been  the  first  boat 
that  had  ever  reached  this  place — a  claim  I  think 
hardly  substantiated — arrived  with  men  and  supplies 
for  the  purpose  of  building  the  original  Fort  Dearborn; 
so  named  in  honor  of  General  Henry  Dearborn,  then 
Secretary  of  War.  The  fort  was  completed  about 
1804,  and  occupied  by  a  company  of  the  First  Regi- 
ment of  U.  S.  Infantry,  under  command  of  its  con- 


14  INTRODUCTION 

structor,  Captain  John  Whistler.  There  was  at  the 
time  but  one  building  in  the  place,  a  small  log  cabin 
built  in  1779  by  Jean  Au  Sable,  a  San  Domingo 
negro,  on  the  north  side  of  the  river  and  owned  and 
occupied  by  a  French  Canadian  trader,  Pierre  Le  Mai, 
and  his  Pottawattomie  wife. 

In  1804  John  Kinzie  Sr.,  a  silversmith  and  an 
Indian  trader,  came  and  purchased  La  Mai's  cabin 
for  his  own  family,  which  was  the  only  white  one 
in  the  place  for  several  years,  with  the  exception 
of  that  of  Jean  Baptiste  Beaubien,  an  Indian 
trader  who  had  preceded  Kinzie  by  four  years. 

On  August  15th,  1812,  occurred  the  Indian  mas- 
sacre and  the  destruction  of  the  fort  which  was  re- 
built in  1816. 

John  Kinzie,  who  had  always  proved  himself  a  true 
friend  of  the  Indians,  and  had  consequently  been 
protected  by  them  at  the  time  of  the  massacre,  re- 
turned when  the  fort  was  completed,  but  found  little 
to  remind  him  of  the  past,  excepting  his  long  deserted 
house  and  the  Indians  strolling  about  as  before. 
Among  them  he  met  Alexander  Robinson,  who  had 
arrived  two  years  previously,  a  half  breed,  friendly  to 
the  whites,  and  a  chief  possessed  of  great  influence 
among  the  Pottawattomies.  It  was  a  long  while 
after  the  return  of  the  Kinzies  before  the  post  began 
to  show  signs  of  prosperity. 

In  1827  the  Winnebagos  of  the  Upper  Mississippi 
river  were  on  the  war  path.  At  that  time  some  3000 
or  4000  Pottawattomies  were  at  Fort  Dearborn  to 
receive  their  annual  land  payments,  and  Big-Foot, 


INTRODUCTION  15 

the  head  chief  from  Big-Foot  (Geneva)  Lake,  assem- 
bled the  leading  men  of  his  tribe  under  one  of  the 
fort  locust  trees  and  urged  them  to  join  their  breth- 
ren of  the  north  in  exterminating  the  whites. 

The  few  families  of  the  place,  most  of  whom  were  in 
the  barracks  (the  soldiers  having  been  sent  to  Fort 
Howard),  were  not  fully  aware  of  the  northern  diffi- 
culty and  of  the  dangers  by  which  they  were  beset. 
But  Lewis  Cass,  the  Governor  of  Michigan  Territory, 
who  had  been  apprised  of  the  threatened  trouble,  had 
in  the  month  of  June  left  Detroit  by  canoe  for  Lake 
Winnebago,  where  he  was  to  meet  in  council  the  Chip- 
pewas,  Menominees  and  Winnebagos.  Upon  arriving 
at  Green  Bay,  and  finding  that  the  latter  tribe  had 
already  commenced  hostilities  against  the  white 
settlers  in  the  vicinity  of  Prairie  du  Chien,  he  imme- 
diately continued  his  voyage  in  a  fifteen  paddle  birch 
bark  canoe,  ascended  the  Fox  river,  crossed  the  port- 
age, and  descended  the  Wisconsin  to  the  Mississippi. 
He  arrived  at  St.  Louis  after  many  adventures,  whence 
he  dispatched  troops  from  Jefferson  Barracks  to  the 
scene  of  difficulties,  the  Governor  himself  returning 
in  the  same  canoe  by  the  Illinois  and  Des  Plaines 
rivers,  through  Mud  Lake  to  the  South  Branch  and  to 
Lake  Michigan,  reaching  the  council  ground  in  safety 
after  taking  a  circuit  of  nearly  1800  miles.  There,  on 
the  15th  of  September,  he  concluded  a  treated  with 
some  3000  Indians. 

Thus  did  the  wisdom  and  intrepidity  of  Governor 
Cass,  together  with  the  influence  of  the  powerful 
chiefs,  Chambly — better  known  as  Shabanee  (pro- 


16  INTRODUCTION 

nounccd  Shaw-Bee-Nay),  Billy  Caldwell  (Sau-ga- 
nash),  and  Alexander  Robinson,  deter  Big-Foot  from 
committing  any  depredations. 

Five  years  later,  in  1832,  occurred  the  Black  Hawk 
war.  This  alarming  uprising,  so  frequently  referred 
to  in  our  early  annals,  threatened  to  be  far  worse  than 
it  proved.  The  fright,  the  hardships,  the  losses 
which  the  peaceful  settlers,  timid  women  and  helpless 
children  were  called  upon  to  endure  could  easily  have 
been  averted  had  the  right  men  been  in  the  right 
places.  The  cause  of  many  of  our  Indian  troubles, 
with  all  of  their  consequent  horrors,  can  be  directly 
traced  to  the  bad  faith  of  men  in  authority.  Briefly 
stated  this  calamity  was  inaugurated  by  the  following 
events : 

In  the  spring  of  1804  a  Sauk  Indian  had  murdered 
a  white,  and  was  delivered  by  his  tribe  to  the  military 
and  taken  to  St.  Louis,  whither  Quash-quame,  a  Sauk 
chief  related  to  the  culprit,  went  with  another  Sauk 
chief,  one  Fox  chief  and  a  warrior.  These,  without 
any  authority  from  their  tribes,  conveyed  to  the 
Government  a  tract  of  land  between  the  Illinois  and 
Mississippi  rivers,  the  treaty  being  dated  at  St.  Louis 
on  the  4th  of  November,  1804. 

Thomas  Forsyth,  the  agent  of  the  two  tribes,  states 
that  "When  the  annuities  were  delivered  to  the  Sauk 
and  Fox  nation  of  Indians,  according  to  the  treaty 
above  referred  to  (amounting  to  $1,000  per  annum), 
the  Indians  always  thought  they  were  presents,  as  the 
annuity  for  the  first  twenty  years  was  always  paid  in 
goods,  sent  on  from  Washington,  District  of  Columbia, 


INTRODUCTION  17 

until  I,  as  their  agent,  convinced  them  of  the  contrary 
in  the  summer  of  1818.  When  the  Indians  heard 
that  the  goods  delivered  to  them  were  annuities  for 
land,  sold  by  them  to  the  United  States,  they  were 
astonished,  and  refused  to  accept  of  the  goods,  deny- 
ing that  they  ever  sold  the  lands  as  stated  by  me,  their 
agent.  The  Black  Hawk  in  particular,  who  was  pres- 
ent at  the  time,  made  a  great  noise  about  this  land, 
and  would  never  receive  any  part  of  the  annuities 
from  that  time  forward.  He  always  denied  the 
authority  of  Quash-quame  and  others  to  sell  any  part 
of  their  lands,  and  told  the  Indians  not  to  receive 
any  presents  or  annuities  from  any  American — other- 
wise their  lands  would  be  claimed  at  some  future  day. 

"The  Sauk  and  Fox  nations  are  allowed,  according 
to  that  treaty  to  live  and  hunt  on  the  land  so  ceded, 
as  long  as  the  aforesaid  lands  belong  to  the  United 
States."  But  in  1827  a  few  squatters  seized  what 
land  they  wanted  near  the  mouth  of  the  Rocky — 
now  Rock — river,  subjecting  the  peaceful  Indians  to 
every  species  of  indignity  and  abuse,  both  in  person 
and  in  property,  without  any  retaliation  upon  the 
part  of  the  sufferers. 

Through  Thomas  Forsyth  they  made  repeated  com- 
plaints to  General  Clarke,  Superintendent  of  Indian 
affairs  at  St.  Louis,  who  paid  no  attention  to  their 
grievances,  heeding  only  the  statements  of  the  few 
whites,  who  demanded  that  the  red  men  should  be 
removed  bacause  they  wished  to  purchase  the  land 
when  it  should  be  placed  by  the  Government  on  the 
market.  Yet,  when  in  the  autumn  of  1828  the  lands 


18  INTRODUCTION 

in  the  vicinity  of  the  old  Sauk  village  were  offered 
for  sale,  only  one  of  the  twenty  families  of  squatters 
(if  we  accept  George  Davenport,  a  trader  who  resided 
at  Rocky  Island)  was  able  to  make  the  first  payment 
upon  even  a  quarter  section  each,  at  the  regulation 
price  of  $1.25  per  acre.  Therefore,  the  land  re- 
mained the  property  of  the  Government — if  it  did 
not  justly  belong  to  the  Sauk  and  Foxes;  and  in  either 
event,  the  Indians  had  indisputable  right  to  remain 
in  peaceful  possession.  Nevertheless,  in  the  spring 
of  1831,  General  Green  compelled  them  to  remove  to 
the  west  of  the  Mississippi  river.  The  following 
season  some  400  of  them  recrossed  with  their  fami- 
lies and  belongings  to  visit  their  friends  and  relatives 
among  the  Pottawattomies,  on  the  Fox  river,  as  they 
had  an  unquestioned  right  to  do.  Thereupon  Gen- 
eral Stillman  attacked  them,  before  they  had  given 
any  indication  of  hostility  against  the  whites,  and  so 
began  a  war  that  was  without  excuse  or  justification. 
It  was  well,  indeed,  for  the  whites  that  Captain 
L.  C.  Hugunin  (one-armed  Hugunin  as  he  was  called), 
who  was  living  on  the  west  side  of  the  North  Branch 
near  the  Forks,  had  enough  influence  over  his  com- 
rade, Billy  Caldwell,  to  induce  him  to  remain  neutral, 
instead  of  joining  his  friends,  Black  Hawk  and  Keokuk. 
The  Sau-Ga-Nash  was  a  very  influential  chief  of  the 
Pottawattomies,  and  had  he  gone  on  the  war  path 
with  the  large  following  he  undoubtedly  would  have 
commanded  the  Black  Hawk  war  would  have  proved 
to  be  a  more  bloody  uprising  than  a  well  founded 
fright. 


INTRODUCTION  19 

When  the  war  was  ended  the  tide  of  immigration 
began  to  pour  into  the  little  burg.  Fear  of  the  In- 
dians had  driven  nearly  every  family  within  fifty 
miles  to  seek  protection  in  the  fort,  which  they 
speedily  vacated  when  General  Scott  arrived,  with 
many  of  his  soldiers,  the  victims  of  Asiatic  cholera. 
These  two  calamities  being  ended,  the  place  contained 
from  100  to  150  persons,  which  number  was  soon  aug- 
mented. The  surrounding  country  filled  up  with  a 
rapidity  which  it  had  never  before  known,  until  our 
town  at  the  time  of  our  arrival  boasted  of  some  600 
inhabitants. 


CONTENTS 


PREFACE  5 

INTRODUCTION 7 

THE  FIRST  VIEW 25 

THE  GREEN  TREE  AND  WOLF  POINT  TAVERNS  . .  35 
WE  LOOK  ABOUT  TOWN.  WHERE  THE  STORES 

WERE  AND  WHO  OCCUPIED  THEM  ....  43 

THE  LANDLORD  TALKS 57 

WE  SETTLE  DOWN 65 

THE  NEW  YORK  MILLINERY  AND  A  FEW 

NEIGHBORS 73 

THE  SPORTS  AND  TOILS  OF  MY  CHILDHOOD  .  .  83 
THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW.  OUR  NUMBERS  AND 

THE  INDIANS  . 99 

SOME  EARLY  PRACTICES.  . 113 

THE  FIRST  OF  THE  MILLION 129 

THE  EARLIEST  SETTLERS 139 

EARLY  SETTLERS 157 

OTHER  EARLY  SETTLERS 173 

STILL  OTHER  EARLY  CITIZENS 189 

SCHOLARS  AND  SCHOOLING 203 

STREETS  AND  ROADS 221 

EARLY  REAL  ESTATE  SPECULATIONS 237 

ADVERTISING  AND  BUSINESS 245 

THE  BIRTH  OF  INDUSTRIES 257 

FIRE  FIGHTING 277 

21 


22 


CONTENTS 


XXI.    THE    STREAM    OP    MY    CHILDHOOD    AND    THE 

CHICAGO  RIVER 285 

XXII.    CROSSING  THE  STREAM 293 

XXIII.  THE  STORY  OF  THE  CANAL 301) 

XXIV.  OUR  WATER  SUPPLY 319 

XXV.     TRANSPORTATION  BY  LAND  AND  WATER  ....   327 

XXVI.     STATE  INTERNAL  IMPROVEMENTS  AND   URBAN 

TRANSIT 335 

XXVII.     THE  EARLY  PAPERS  AND  WHAT  THEY  PRINTED  .   343 

.---  • 

XXVIII.)  OUR  EARLY  CHURCHES  AND  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS  .    .  357 

XXIX.  OUR  POSTMASTERS  AND  THEIR  OFFICES  ....  373 

XXX.     OUR  MAYORS  OF  LONG  AGO 383 

XXXI.     BEFORE  THE  WAR 391 

XXXII.  SOMETHING  REGARDING  A  YOUNG  DRUGGIST.    .  403 

XXXIII.  SOME  PERSONAL  MATTERS 415 

XXXIV.  CONCLUSION 429 

INDEX    .  .  437 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

Portrait  of  Author Frontispiece 

Section  of  Phelp's  Map  of  the  United  States  in  1832.  Show- 
ing the  prevalence  of  the  Indians  and  scarcity  of  whites 

in  this  vicinity 7 

The  Kinzie  House  as  it  was  in  1835 26 

Mark  Beaubien's  Tavern,  The  Sauganash  in  1835  ....     31 
The  Green  Tree  Tavern  in  1835,  on  the  northeast  corner  of 

Lake  and  West  Water  (now  Canal)  streets 35 

Wolf  Point  in  1835.  Showing  the  Wolf  Tavern  and  Miller's 
house,  with  the  cabin  of  Rev.  Jesse  Walker  in  the  dis- 
tance on  the  left 40 

The  First  Catholic  Church.  Erected  in  1834,  on  the  south- 
west corner  of  State  and  Lake  streets (48^1 

Cook  County's  First  Jail  as  it  was  in  1836.     Located  on  the 

northwest  corner  of  the  public  square 53 

Galewood.     The  Birthplace  of  Albert  Grannis  Lane,  March 

15,    1841 87 

Alexander  Beaubien  on  his  80th  Birthday.  He  was  born 
January  28,  1822,  when  Kinzie's  was  the  only  white 

family  in  the  place  besides  his  father's 90 

Interior  of  Fort  Dearborn  as  it  was  in  1842.  Showing 
the  west  side  barracks,  and  facing  south,  the  residence 

of  the  commanding  officer s    .    .    .    .   210 

The  First  School  House  owned  by  the  City  of  Chicago, 
southeast  corner  of  Madison  and  Dearborn  streets. 
(Present  site  of  the  Tribune  Building.)  Known  in  1844 

as  the  Rumsey  School 212 

33 


24  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Bennett's  School  on  the  southwest  corner  of  Madison  street 
and  Vincennes  Road  (State  street)  1844.  Showing 
the  Indians  supplying  the  school  children  with  maple 
sugar 214 

Schoolmaster  Bennett  "Swatting"  a  Pupil 216 

The  First  Cook  County  Court  House,  1835.  Erected  on 

the  northeast  corner  of  the  public  square 267 

Rotten  Row,  on  Lake  Street,  west  of  Clark.  With  tenants 
of  1843 273 

The  Archimedes  with  its  outrigger,  so  essential  to  prevent 

its  upsetting 304 

Frink  &  Walker's  Stage  Office,  southwest  corner  of  Dear- 
born and  Lake  streets,  1844 332 

The  St.  James  Episcopal  Church.  First  brick  church  in  the 

place.  Dedicated  in  1837 362 

The  First  Universalist  Church,  erected  in  1843,  on  Wash- 
ington street,  immediately  east  of  the  Methodist  Church 
Block 367 

The  Fort  Dearborn  Block  House,  demolished  in  1856.  .    .   429 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  FIRST  VIEW 

The  sight  which  upon  the  25th  day  of  May,  1835, 
greeted  the  few  families  that  had  taken  passage  at 
Buffalo  on  the  brig  Illinois,  was  not  one  to  encourage 
the  speculator  who  might  be  in  search  of  real  estate 
bargains,  or  the  pater-familias  seeking  an  inviting 
place  in  which  to  establish  a  prosperous  business  and 
a  happy  home.  In  fact,  as  Captain  Jack  Wagstaff 
lowered  sails  that  beautiful  Monday  morning,  and 
cast  anchor  about  half  a  mile  from  the  western  shore 
of  Lake  Michigan,  there  seemed  to  be  no  special 
reason  for  his  selecting  that  particular  spot  for  ter- 
minating his  long  and  monotonous  voyage. 

A  shallow,  little  stream,  formed  by  the  junction  of 
two  branches  half  a  mile  inland,  moved  in  graceful 
curves  to  the  eastward  and  added  its  modest  contri- 
bution to  the  great  chain  of  marvelous  fresh  water 
seas,  between  two  short  unfinished  piers,  just  south 
of  where  the  brig  was  lying  at  anchor.  Within 
sight  of  those  on  the  vessel  were  countless  numbers 
of  Indian  wigwams,  and  their  dusky  occupants, 
while  dark-skinned  braves  were  paddling  in  the  lake. 

Along  the  shore  was  to  be  seen  a  succession  of  low 
sand  hills,  partly  covered  with  a  scrubby  growth  of 
cedars,  junipers  and  pines.  Beyond  were  detached 

35 


26  EARLY   CHICAGO 

groves,  mostly  of  small  black  oaks.  A  little  farther 
west,  reaching  to  the  north  branch  of  the  river,  were  a 
few  noble  elms,  while  further  up  the  stream  a  fine 
belt  of  hickory,  maple,  beech,  and  a  variety  of  oaks 
spread  gradually  wider  and  wider  towards  the  east 
until,  joining  the  lake  shore  timber,  they  formed  the 
southern  outpost  of  that  immense  forest  stretch- 
ing to  the  north,  covering  the  trackless  regions  of  the 

"TERRITORY  CLAIMED  BY  HIS  CATHOLIC  MAJESTY  AND 
GREAT    BRITAIN. " 

About  opposite  where  the  brig  lay,  not  far  from  the 
north  bank  of  the  river,  was  a  stately  cottonwood 
tree,  just  north  of  an  old  residence,  while  south  of  the 
house,  shading  the  remnant  of  its  long,  sagging  porch, 
were  four  *Lombardy  poplars,  offering  a  pleasing  va- 
riety to  the  wooded  landscape.  Across  the  stream, 
south  of,  and  in  close  proximity  to  the  Fort,  were 
three  large,  wide  spreading  honey  locusts. 

These  locusts  were  marvels  of  grace  and  beauty, 
and  I  have  always  rejoiced  that  on  one  cold,  cheerless 
autumn  day,  about  1841,  when  I  was  attending  school 
at  the  post,  one  of  my  comrades,  John  Russell,  whose 
father  was  the  first  landlord  of  the  City  Hotel,  and  I 
gathered  a  bushel  basket  full  of  pods  from  these  trees, 
the  beans  of  which  my  father  planted  on  his  farm  at 
Galewood,  now  within  the  western  limits  of  the  city, 
where  quite  a  number  of  vigorous  trees  are  still  stand- 
ing, while  on  my  home  lot,  on  the  north-west  corner 
of  Lake  street  and  Kenilworth  avenue,  Oak  Park,  I 

*I  am  told  that  some  have  denied  the  existence  of  these  poplars ,  but  I 
think  the  evidence  of  their  being  there  is  unquestionable,  and  those  who 
deny  it  must  have  been  arrivals  of  a  later  day. 


THE  FIRST  VIEW  27 

have  two  very  fine  ones,  transplanted  from  the  farm 
about  1870,  which  I  highly  prize  as  souvenirs  of  Fort 
Dearborn  and  my  early  school-boy  days. 

It  is  currently  believed  that  this  historical  cotton- 
wood,  for  many  years  a  prominent  landmark,  was 
planted  by  John  H.  Kinzie  in  1811,  when  but  eight 
years  of  age.  We  do  not  like  to  pluck  the  laurel  from 
the  brow  of  our  most  worthy  pioneer,  but  Alexander 
Beaubien  assures  me  that  his  mother,  Josette  Lafrom- 
boise,  then  in  the  employ  of  the  Kinzies,  set  the  little 
tree  out  herself.  As  Josette  was  at  that  time  a 
member  of  the  Kinzie  family,  and  as  Mr.  Kinzie 
once  swore  that  he  planted  it,  the  probability  is, 
considering  the  age  of  young  Kinzie  that  they  both 
had  a  hand  in  it. 

Near  the  south  bank  of  the  river,  but  a  few  hundred  I 
feet  from  the  lake,  stood  Fort  Dearborn,  consisting  of  / 
some  half  dozen  barracks,  officers'  quarters  and  other 
buildings,  with  a  blockhouse  in  the  southwest  angle, 
all  constructed  of  wood  and  surrounded  by  high, 
pointed  pickets  placed  closely  together,  which,  with 
th  buildings,  were  well  whitewashed.  Adjoining 
the  Fort,  near  its  northwest  corner  was  a  small,  cir- 
cular, stone  lighthouse.  Around  these  clustered  a 
few  cabins,  like  timid  chickens  that  did  not  dare  to 
stray  beyond  their  mother's  sheltering  wings. 

This  feeble  settlement,  guarded  by  that  simple  fort, 
was  the  unpretentious  nucleus  of  the  city,  which  in 
many  respects  is  the  most  marvelous  of  ancient  or 
modern  times. 

There  was  then  but  little  besides  the  fort  to  mark 


28  EARLY  CHICAGO 

the  resistless  in-coming  tide  of  the  white  man  and 
the  moaning  ebb  of  the  Aborigines.  The  low  shores 
along  which  were  clustered  the  picturesque  lodges  of 
the  natives;  the  small,  one  storied  dwellings,  mostly 
constructed  of  logs;  the  few  stores,  still  less  inviting; 
the  quaggy  ground  and  untilled  soil,  presented  to  the 
voyagers  no  enchanting  views,  no  attractive  sur- 
roundings, no  promising  outlook  for  future  homes. 
Thoughts  of  the  personal  comforts  to  which  they  had 
been  accustomed,  the  society  and  civilization  of  the 
East;  the  homes  of  their  childhood,  with  all  their 
hallowed  associations,  the  faces  of  loved  ones  they 
had  parted  from,  perhaps  forever,  all  tended  to 
sadden  the  heart,  choke  the  voice,  and  dim  the  eyes 
of  those  who  had  come  to  these  western  wilds  to  gain 
for  themselves,  by  years  of  honest  toil,  a  compe- 
tence which  they  deemed  less  attainable  in  older  sec- 
tions of  the  land.  My  own  people,  wearied  by  the 
32  days  traveling  required  to  make  the  journey  from 
New  York  city,  and  the  necessarily  poor  fare  and 
sleeping  accommodations,  together  with  the  many 
other  discomforts,  including  the  confinement  of  23 
days  on  a  small  sailing  vessel,  realized  that  they  were 
strangers  in  a  strange  land,  and  would  still  be  com- 
pelled to  endure  many  privations. 

No  wonder,  as  they  compared  the  friends,  homes 
and  scenes  which  they  had  left  behind  them  with  the 
Indians,  the  wigwams  and  wilderness  ahead,  that 
they  paused  before  they  left  the  brig. 

No  suspicions  had  our  homesick  travelers,  in 
looking  at  those  forests  and  groves,  that  in  their 


THE  FIRST  VIEW  29 

prosaic  shade  some  modern  Aladdin  had  hidden 
myriads  of  his  magic  lamps  with  which,  in  the  com- 
pass of  a  single  life,  to  dazzle  the  world  by  the  wonders 
they  would  display. 

But  while  we  were  wondering  and  doubting,  Cap- 
tain Wagstaff  had  been  working.  He  summoned  the 
large  birch-bark  Mackinac  boats  and  a  few  still  more 
commodious  lighters,  which  his  crew  industriously 
loaded  for  the  French  Canadians  and  half  breeds,  who 
landed  their  cargoes  on  the  south  bank  of  the  river 
at  LaSalle  street,  where  the  goods  were  stored  in 
the  first  building  ever  erected  here  for  storage  pur- 
poses. 

While  the  unloading  was  progressing,  Captain  Wag- 
staff,  impatient  for  us  to  land,  pointed  to  a  little  cloud 
on  the  horizon,  and  earnestly  said  to  his  passengers, 
"You  see  that  cloud  sou'-west-by-sou',  over  there? 
That  is  a  sure  sign  of  a  coming  storm,  and  if  you  peo- 
ple want  to  get  ashore  within  a  week  you  had  better 
hustle,  for  if  I  am  driven  out  on  the  lake,  when  I  can 
get  back  again  the  Lord  only  knows,  and  He  wont 
tell."  As  our  Lares  and  Penates  were  mostly  ashore  it 
did  not  take  long  to  place  the  passengers  in  the 
Mackinac  boats,  with  the  injunction  to  "Sit  still  and 
not  tip  the  canoe  over,"  and  we  were  soon  landed  at 
the  brick  warehouse. 

Jack  Wagstaff  was  not  the  only  person  on  the  brig 
looking  out  for  squalls.  Benjamin  Jones  was  an- 
ticipating a  complete  assortment  gotten  up  expressly 
to  cry  out  the  hours  of  the  day  and  night  for  the 
benefit  of  his  domestic  serenity.  His  wife,  who  had 


30  EARLY  CHICAGO 

been  quite  uncomfortable  in  her  cramped  quarters, 
went  the  same  day  from  the  confinement  on  the  ship 
to  a  confinement  much  more  interesting.  In  fact 
she  was  scarcely  comfortably  domiciled  on  South 
Water  street  before  she  augmented  the  population 
of  the  place  by  presenting  her  husband  with  a  son. 

As  soon  as  we  arrived  at  the  warehouse,  we  noticed 
a  rather  large  man,  put  up  in  fine  shape  for  an  athlete, 
with  dark  hair  and  eyes,  prominent  nose,  high  cheek 
bones,  large,  firm  mouth  and  a  strong  face,  showing 
great  force  of  character,  but  withal,  a  voice  and  smile 
so  pleasing  that  we  took  to  him  at  once,  as  a  child 
to  its  mother.  "Who  is  he?"  we  asked  of  a  by- 
stander. 

"Why,  that  is  the  proprietor  of  the  warehouse, 
Gurdon  S.  Hubbard.  His  Indian  name  is  Che-mo- 
co-mon-ess.  It  was  given  him  by  Wa-ba,  a  Kickapoo 
chief,  who,  following  the  custom  of  his  people,  adopted 
him  in  place  of  a  son  who  was  lost  in  battle.  He  is 
just  as  nature  labeled  him.  He  can  outrun  or  out- 
walk any  Indian,  takes  difficulties  as  you  would 
dessert  after  dinner,  seems  to  hanker  for  them,  is  as 
true  as  steel,  with  a  heart  as  tender  as  any  woman's. 
He  is  worth  500  ordinary  men  to  any  town." 

"And  who  is  that  small,  lightly  built,  pleasant 
looking  gentleman  Hubbard  is  talking  to,  with  light 
complexion  and  a  face  that  suggests  erysipelas?" 

"That  is  George  W.  Dole.  He  built  the  first 
frame  store  in  the  place,  and  is  one  of  our  most  prom- 
inent business  men,  beloved  by  everybody,  with  a 
heart  as  big  as  a  load  of  hay.  You  can  take  a  lantern 


THE  FIRST  VIEW  31 

and  hunt  the  prairies  over  for  a  month  and  you  wont 
find  two  better  men  than  Gurdon  S.  Hubbard  and 
George  W.  Dole."  We  may  add  that  our  acquaint- 
ance with  these  pioneers,  extending  through  many 
years,  confirmed  this  early  tribute  to  their  worth. 

My  father  arranged  to  leave  the  things  in  the  ware- 
house until  he  decided  what  disposition  to  make  of 
them,  and  upon  the  advice  of  a  citizen  we  all  started 
for  the  Green  Tree. 

The  Green  Tree  was  at  the  Point,  on  the  west  side 
of  the  river  at  the  head  of  Lake  street,  and  was 
reached  by  a  raft  of  logs  between  that  street  and 
Randolph,  chained  together  but  so  arranged  that 
the  fastenings  on  the  west  side  could  easily  be  cast 
off,  enabling  the  float  to  swing  towards  the  east  shore 
when  a  loaded  canoe  required  to  pass  through.  The 
empty  ones  had  to  be  carried  over  the  logs,  however. 
As  we  reached  the  logs  we  noticed,  seated  in  front  of 
another  hotel,  the  "Sauganash,"  leaning  his  chair 
against  the  building,  a  broad  shouldered,  medium 
sized  man,  with  ruddy  face  and  closely  trimmed  side 
whiskers,  wearing  a  brass  buttoned,  swallow-tailed, 
blue  coat,  just  about  the  color  of  the  wooden  shutters 
above  him.  He  was  having  a  jolly  good  time  with 
his  fellow  loungers,  if  one  might  judge  from  his  laugh- 
provoking  merriment.  We  soon  ascertained  that 
this  rollicking  individual  was  Mark  Beaubien,  the 
,  Superintendent  of  the  bridge  or  raft,  a  younger 
brother  of  Colonel  Beaubien;  who  had  been  here  a 
long  time.  By  his  bubbling  humor  one  felt  safe  in 
predicting  that  he  would  always  feel  a  little  younger 


32  EARLY  CHICAGO 

than  anyone  else,  irrespective  of  what  the  church 
records  might  attempt  to  prove. 

Mark,  observing  us,  hastily  approached,  took  off 
his  hat  and,  executing  a  bow  with  a  French  grace  that 
would  have  made  Beau  Brummel  envious,  he  ex- 
tended his  hand  to  father,  remarking:  "Youse  iz 
certamment  une  strangeers.  I  keeps  zat  Sau-ga-nash 
hotels,  he's  bang  up  good  plaz  youse  stops.  Mine 
madam,  ze  is  une  bully  good  cook,  my  pets  zey  pe 
gooses  fedders.  I  eatz  zu,  I  zleepz  zu  une  dollair  py 
pig  folks  ze  day.  Ze  poys  and  gail  I  trows  out  by 
gar/' 

Whether  father  did  not  want  to  be  eaten  or  whether 
he  objected  to  having  sister,  brother  and  myself 
"Trows  out  by  gar"  I  do  not  know,  but  he  took  us 
with  him  across  the  bridge,  and  we  missed  being  the 
guests  of  Jolly  Mark.  Beyond  the  corduroy  bridge, 
to  our  right,  set  back  a  little  from  the  street  and 
facing  the  river,  was  an  imitation  two-storied  house, 
with  a  faded  painting  swinging  from  the  post,  which 
could  easily  have  been  taken  for  a  black  sheep,  but 
for  the  painted  legend  of 

WOLF  TAVERN 


which  of  course  settled  all  zoological  difficulties. 

Ahead  of  us,  also  on  the  right,  or  north  side  of  the 
street,  was  another  frame,  two-storied  building.  On 
the  corner,  sustained  by  a  shorter  post  than  the  one 
by  which  the  wolf  was  hung,  was  a  sign  bearing  a 


THE  FIRST  VIEW  33 

nondescript  species  of  vegetation,  while  underneath 
we  read 


GREEN  TREE  TAVERN 

We  did  not  stop  to  question  the  veracity  of  the 
artist,  but  concluded  it  was  a  green  tree  and  that  the 
tavern  was  the  identical  one  which  we  had  traveled 
by  land  and  water,  between  one  and  two  thousand 
miles  to  reach. 


* 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  GREEN  TREE  AND  WOLF  POINT  TAVERNS 

The  Green  Tree  having  no  book  for  that  purpose, 
we  were  spared  the  ceremony  of  registering.  Nor 
was  it  certain  that  we  could  find  accommodation 
until  our  host  had  returned  from  the  kitchen,  wither 
he  had  gone  to  consult  with  his  efficient  wife,  who 
performed  the  never-ending  duties  of  housekeeper, 
landlady,  meat  and  pastry  cook,  scullion,  chamber- 
maid, waitress,  advisor  and  personal  attendant  upon 
all  the  ladies  and  children  who  took  shelter  under  the 
Green  Tree;  while  her  liege  lord  filled  the  many  posi- 
tions of  boniface,  clerk,  bar  tender,  butler,  steward, 
walking  encyclopedia  and  general  roustabout. 

The  momentous  council  was  at  length  ended  and  we 
were  assigned  a  room  adjoining  the  one  we  had  first 
entered,  which  was  the  bar,  reading,  smoking  and 
reception  room,  ladies  parlor  and  general  utility 
place,  in  one.  Our  room  was  about  12x12,  with  two 
windows  6x8,  two  doors,  two  beds,  two  red  pictures, 
two  chairs,  a  carpet  worn  in  two  and  was  altogether 
too  dirty  for  the  comfort  of  persons  unaccustomed  to 
such  surroundings.  Placing  our  hand  luggage  and 
two  trunks  inside,  we  returned  to  the  family  room 
and  public  rendezvous  and  took  observations. 

On  the  east  and  west  sides  of  the  seemingly  pre- 
95 


36  EARLY  CHICAGO 

historic  whitewashed  walls  and  board  partitions  were 
the  inevitable  puncheon  benches.  Scattered  around 
in  a  more  informal  manner  was  an  assortment  of 
wooden  chairs.  Near  the  north  end  was  a  bar  counter 
useful  not  only  to  receive  the  drinks,  but  umbrellas, 
overcoats,  whips  and  parcels.  The  west  end  of  the 
bar  was  adorned  with  a  large  inkstand  placed  in  a 
cigar  box  filled  with  No.  8  shot,  in  which  were  stick- 
ing two  quill  pens — steel  being  unknown  here,  though 
invented  in  1830.  This  end  of  the  counter  afforded 
the  only  opportunity  in  the  establishment  for  a 
young  man  to  write  to  the  girl  he  left  behind,  standing 
up  to  his  work  like  a  prize  fighter  with  a  host  of  back- 
ers and  seconds  around  him  to  see  that  he  had  fair 
play.  Near  the  inkstand  were  several  tattered 
newspapers,  the  latest  giving  an  account  of  a  great 
snow  storm  in  Boston.  At  the  other  end  of  the 
counter  were  a  dozen  or  more  short  pieces  of  tallow 
candles,  each  placed  in  a  hole  bored  in  a  2x4  block 
fortified  by  six  penny  nails,  standing  like  mourners 
around  the  circular  graves  in  which  they  had  seen  so 
many  flickering  lights  pass  away  into  utter  darkness. 
Hanging  in  a  row  against  the  wall  were  large  cloth 
and  leather  slippers,  which  the  guests  were  expected 
to  put  on  at  night,  that  mud  might  not  be  tracked 
to  every  part  of  the  house.  Under  the  counter  was 
a  large  wooden  boot  jack  and  a  box  containing  two 
old-fashioned  boot  brushes  and  several  pieces  of  hard, 
raw  tallow,  black  from  application  to  stogas.  There 
was  also  a  collection  of  old-fashioned,  perforated  tin 
lanterns.  Though  not  equal  to  their  glass  descend- 


THE  GREEN  TREE  TAVERN     37 

ants,  they  were  a  great  improvement  on  the  lanthorns 
of  ye  olden  times,  and  certainly  very  useful  in  en- 
abling one  to  distinguish  the  difference  between  the 
necessary  stepping-blocks  in  the  streets  and  the  alto- 
gether unnecessary  mud  puddles. 

There  was  also  to  be  seen  the  indispensable  tinder 
box,  used  fifty  times  a  day,  at  least,  for  lighting  pipes, 
when  the  old,  rusty,  bar  stove  was  taking  its  summer 
vacation.  Above  the  tinder  box  was  one  of  the  old- 
fashioned,  square,  cherry,  veneered  Connecticut  clocks. 
On  the  glass  door  beneath  the  dial  plate  was  a  purple 
horse  drawing  a  blue  plow,  which  a  man  with  a  green 
coat  and  yellow  trousers  was  guiding.  The  men  of 
the  Nutmeg  State  were  giants  in  those  days,  judging 
by  this  specimen,  who  was  taller  than  the  apple  tree  in 
the  corner,  which,  in  turn,  was  loaded  with  fruit  larger 
than  the  man's  head.  Beneath  the  tree  was  a  mon- 
strous bull-frog,  considerably  larger  than  the  crimson 
calf  beside  it.  The  ablutionary  arrangements  were 
exceedingly  primitive,  consisting  of  tin  wash  basins, 
soiled  towels,  small  mirrors  and  toothless  combs. 
Several  dishes  of  soft  soap  were  arranged  along  the 
back  of  the  water  trough.  Though  pretty  strong  for 
washing  the  hands  of  a  "Tenderfoot,"  it  was  in  great 
demand  after  greasing  boots  or  applying  tar  to  wagon 
axles. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room,  standing  in  a  low  box 
filled  with  lake  sand,  was  a  large  stove  used  in  winter 
to  good  advantage  not  only  for  the  warmth  imparted 
to  the  room,  but  for  furnishing  hot  water  for  toddies, 
shaving  and  washing  as  well.  On  the  right  side  of  the 


38  EARLY  CHICAGO 

door  going  into  our  room  was  a  Cook  County  License, 
costing  $5,  which  permitted  the  recipient  to  keep  an 
inn  and  bar.  It  contained  printed  regulations  as  to 
prices: 

For  each  }  Pint,  Rum,  Wine,  or  Brandy      .     .25 
Pint,      "         "       "       "  .     .37} 

}  Pint,  Gin 18J 

Pint,     " 31* 

Gill  Whiskey 06} 

}  Pint       "         12} 

Breakfast  and  Supper 25 

Dinner 37} 

Horse  feed 25 

Lodging  for  each  person  one  night  .     .     .12} 
Cider  or  Beer,  1  Pint  .06};  1  Quart     .     .12} 

By  the  time  we  had  read  our  fate  in  the  license 
figures  we  were  called  to  supper  by  a  large  bell,  which 
was  rung  by  our  host  in  a  manner  which  required  no 
explanation  as  to  its  meaning.  In  the  dining  room 
were  two  tables,  the  length  of  the  room,  covered  with 
green  checked  oil  cloth,  loaded  with  roasted  wild 
ducks,  fricassee  of  prairie  chickens,  wild  pigeon  pot 
pie,  tea  and  coffee,  creamless,  but  sweetened  with 
granulated  maple  sugar  procured  from  our  red  breth- 
ren. These  furnished  a  banquet  that  rendered  us 
oblivious  to  chipped  dishes,  flies  buzzing  or  tangled 
in  the  butter,  creeping  beetles  and  the  music  of  the 
Mosquito  Band.  We  paid  no  attention  to  pewter 
spoons  and  pewter  castors  containing  such  condi- 
ments as  mustard  in  an  uncovered  pot  and  black  pep- 
per coarsely  crushed  by  the  good  housewife,  or  to 
cruets  with  broken  stoppers  filled  with  vinegar  and 
pepper  sauce.  Our  appetites  put  to  flight  fastidious- 


THE  GREEN  TREE  TAVERN     39 

ness  and,  even  though  the  case  knives  and  forks  had 
never  been  scoured,  we  took  it  for  granted  that  they 
were  washed  after  every  meal  and  we  paid  strict  atten- 
tion to  our  own  business,  and  soon  after  tea  retired. 

The  piesent  generation  of  housekeepers,  using  brass, 
iron  or  any  modern  bedstead,  cannot  imagine  how 
much  trouble  and  work  it  was  to  take  down,  clean  and 
put  up  those  couches  of  antiquity,  the  old  fashioned 
bedsteads.  Then  the  most  careful  matron  had  to 
use  eternal  vigilance,  with  considerable  quicksilver, 
to  keep  even  a  private  house  free  from  vermin.  The 
sack  bottom  was  bad  enough,  but  when  you  had. 
holes  through  the  side  pieces  of  a  common  bedstead 
every  six  inches  of  their  entire  length,  and  rope 
through  the  holes,  tightened  with  the  wooden  key 
and  pegs  of  the  period,  and  had  to  crowd  the  ends  of 
side  pieces  into  mortised  head  and  foot  boards,  where 
they  were  secured  by  large  six-inch  screws  turned  in 
place  by  the  massive  iron  key,  you  found  something 
to  keep  you  employed  if  you  took  down  and  put  up 
these  complicated  machines  as  often  as  safety  re- 
quired. I  think  it  would  puzzle  the  genius  of  an 
Edison  to  invent  anything  better  adapted  for  raising 
a  big  crop  of  cimex  lectularii  than  those  incubators  of 
olden  time. 

We  could  not  sleep,  but  as  there  was  nothing  be- 
tween us  and  the  adjoining  public  room  but  a  board 
partition,  we  could  hear  the  conversation  going  on 
between  the  landlord  and  one  of  the  boarders;  and 
we  soon  found  ourselves  learning  reliable  history  in 
a  manner  more  rapid  than  in  any  other  way. 


40  EARLY  CHICAGO 

We  heard  a  boarder  ask: 

"Landlord,  was  this  the  first  tavern  built  in  the 
place?" 

"Oh!  no!  ther  Wolf  wuz  ther  fust." 

"When  was  that  built?" 

"In  '28,  7  years  ago." 

"Who  built  it?" 

"Jim  Kinzie  and  Archibald  Caldwell.  Kinzie  wuz 
the  oldest  son  of  old  John  Kinzie,  who  died  in  January 
of  ther  year  ther  Wolf  wuz  built.  They  didn't  call 
her  the  Wolf  at  fust;  you  know  this  used  to  be  called 
ther  Pint,  an  they  called  that  air  ther  Pint  Tavern, 
but  when  old  Geese  got  ter  running  of  her,  he  was 
bound  ter  let  folks  know  it  had  changed  hans,  an  so 
he  allowed  hed  change  her  name,  too,  but  didn't  know 
what  on  airth  ter  call  her,  till  one  day  he  went  inter  his 
meat  room,  an,  by  thunder,  he  foun  a  prairie  wolf 
helpin  hisself  to  some  of  his  dresst  prairie  chickens. 
The  old  man  wuz  mad  as  ther  wolf  an  they  had  it  right 
out  ther  an  then.  Geese  killed  ther  wolf  an  thunk 
that  ud  give  him  a  bang  up  name,  so  he  kinder  drapped 
on  the  idee  to  call  her  ther  Wolf." 

"Dave,  I  think  that  is  a  fairy  story.  I  have  no 
doubt  old  Geese,  as  you  call  him,  killed  a  wolf,  most 
everybody  has.  I  heard  the  same  reason,  but  they 
tell  me  it  is  not  correct;  that  he  didn't  come  here  till 
the  Fall  of  '29,  and  it  had  been  called  Wolf  Point 
years  before  that,  after  an  Indian  living  here  by  the 
name  of  Mo-a-way,  which  they  say  is  the  Indian  for 
wolf.*  But  Wolf  Point  being  too  much  of  a  mouth- 

*Mo-a-way  was  a  nephew  of  Alexander  Robinson. 


THE  GREEN  TREE  TAVERN     41 

ful  for  every  day  use,  they  let  the  wolf  run  and  hung 
on  to  the  Point,  till  old  Geese  coralled  the  wolf  again." 

"You  mought  be  right,  John,  you  mought  be  right, 
but  thet's  ther  way  I  heerd  it." 

"I  see  there  is  no  tavern  there  now.  Why  don't 
they  take  the  sign  down?" 

"  I  reckon  they  calkerlate,  if  they  let  her  be  a  little 
longer,  the  old  wolf '11  come  down  on  a  run  anyhow." 

" Did  Kinzie  and  Caldwell  keep  tavern?" 

"I'll  tell  yer  how  twuz.  Yer  see  at  fust  twuz  er 
small  one  room  affair,  made  er  logs,  clay  chinked,  and 
as  Jim  hankered  ter  keep  store,  nuthin  ed  do  but  they 
mus  splice  her,  so  they  posted  off  to  Walker's  mill 
out  ter  Plainfiel,  nigh  onter  40  mile  southwest  er  here, 
whar  is  ther  nighes  saw  mill,  and  got  ther  lumber. 
Thur  aint  no  pine  groin  roun  here,  so  they  had  ter 
use  hard  wood  lumber  ter  put  up  ther  imitation  two 
story  addition." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  imitation?" 

"  Jist  what  I  say.  That's  all  'tis.  That  air  secon 
story,  where  ther  gallery  is,  is  all  sham.  Thur  aint 
no  rooms  behin  it.  It  just  gin  ther  boys  a  place  ter 
set  down  in  front,  an  see  thur  wil  ducks  an  Injuns 
paddlin  roun  in  ther  creek.  They  soon  got  allfired 
tired  of  ther  job,  tho,  so  Caldwell  pulled  out  an  lef, 
an  on  New  Year's  day  '30,  Old  Geese  tuk  her  fur 
boardin  thur  Kinzies.  Thold  man  tuk  out  thur  fust 
license  in  thur  place.  Got  her  at  Fort  Clark;  for  yer 
see  we  wuz  in  Peora  County  in  them  days.  He  paid 
$7  fur  her;  that  wuz  January,  '30,  an  wuz  thur  lars 
tavern  license,  too,  we  had  tur  go  tur  Peora  fur,  coz 


42  EARLY  CHICAGO 

yer  know,  Fust  of  Augus  nex  year  Cook  County  wuz 
organize,  an  that  kinder  blocked  Peora  from  gittin  any 
mor  uv  our  rocks.  Well,  as  I  wuz  a  sayin,  arter  runnin 
ther  Wolf  a  year,  Charley  Taylor  bought  thur  ole  man 
out,  an  in  a  couple  er  years  he  sole  ter  Billy  Wallace 
Wattles." 

"Dave,  you  said  there  was  no  saw-mill  less  than 
forty  miles  from  here.  I  thought  there  was  one  out 
at  the  Aux  Plaine,  where  they  get  material  for  the 
piers. " 

"  That's  so,  John,  but  its  a  small  consarn  and  they 
can't  turn  out  no  more  stuff  nor  ther  Govenment  an 
ther  farmers  wants." 

But  nature  soon  asserted  herself  and  we  were  at 
length  lost  in  troubled  slumbers,  imagining  through- 
out the  night  that  we  felt  the  tusks  of  the  wolf  in 
every  incision  our  flesh  received,  and  we  gladly  wel- 
comed the  harbinger  of  day. 

Should  any  desire  to  see  the  Green  Tree  Tavern  (afterward  the  Chicago 
Hotel)  they  will  find  it  at  31,  33,  35  and  37  Milwaukee  Ave.,  in  a  pretty 
good  state  of  preservation.  It  belongs  to  the  estate  of  O-sar  Periolat, 
whose  father,  F.  A.  Periolat  was  in  the  grocery  business  at  126  Lake  St. 
Seven  and  one-half  feet  is  rather  low  for  a  hotel  ceiling,  but  it  enabled 
me  to  obtain  a  piece  of  cherry  bark  from  a  joist  as  a  keepsake  of  the  days 
when  the  Green  Tree  and  the  writer  were  two  generations  younger  than  they 
are  today. 


CHAPTER  III 

WE  LOOK  ABOUT  TOWN.    WHERE  THE  STORES  WERE 
AND  WHO  OCCUPIED  THEM 

We  were  ready  for  an  early  breakfast  of  fried 
perch  and  bass  just  out  of  the  river,  and  venison 
steak,  and  griddle  cakes  with  wild  honey  and  maple 
sugar.  We  made  haste  with  our  meal,  eager  to  get 
out  for  a  stroll  in  order  to  view  our  surroundings, 
and  become  acquainted  with  the  place  that  we  felt 
was  to  be  our  future  home. 

What  strikes  us  especially  on  going  out  is  the 
entire  absence  of  streets,  of  which,  properly  so  called, 
there  is  not  one,  no,  not  even  a  ditch  to  mark  the 
roads.  Moreover,  there  is  nothing  to  indicate  where 
they  ultimately'  will  be,  save  the  surveyor's  stakes. 
And,  as  there  are  no  streets,  so  are  there  no  sidewalks. 
Occasionally,  near  the  houses,  we  come  across  step- 
ping-blocks,  short  pieces  of  cord  wood  thrown  down 
to  keep  pedestrians  out  of  the  mud,  but  by  their  use 
in  the  spring,  they  had,  in  most  cases,  been  pressed 
down  to  near  the  level  of  the  adjoining  path. 

Opposite  the  Green  Tree  we  see  a  diminutive 
frame  building  that  had  formerly  been  occupied  by 
Goss  &  Cobb  as  a  harness  shop,  but  is  now  empty. 
On  the  south  side  of  Lake  street,  between  Canal  and 
Clinton  is  a  little  mechanic's  shop,  proclaimed  by  a 

43 


44  EARLY  CHICAGO 

sign  to  belong  to  Asabel  Pierce.  South  of  the  Green 
Tree,  nearer  the  river,  is  a  log  cabin  occupied  by 
Alexander  Robinson,  the  Indian  trader,  chief  and 
interpreter,  and  in  many  respects  one  of  the  most 
important  personages  in  the  village.  In  two  or  three 
cabins  near  his  store  live  some  of  the  members  of  the 
Pottawattomie  tribe,  connections  of  his  wife.  Near 
him  on  the  south  is  the  cabin  of  Joseph  LaFromboise, 
also  an  Indian  trader  and  friend  of  the  Americans. 
Another  neighbor  is  William  See,  the  West  Side 
blacksmith,  who  is  also  a  Methodist  exhorter,  not 
a  very  scholarly  man,  yet  conscientious  and  earnest, 
making  up  in  lungs  what  he  lacks  in  learning,  and  in 
blows  any  deficiency  in  ideas.  North  of  the  hostelry 
is  Captain  L.  C.  &ugunin,  who  has  vast  influence 
with  the  natives,  founded  upon  their  genuine 
respect  for  his  judicial  mind  which  enables  him  to 
decide  fairly  every  subject  presented  to  him.  As  he 
denounces  the  whites  when  they  are  to  blame,  his 
Indian  friends  more  readily  yield  to  his  reasoning 
when  he  undertakes  to  show  them  that  they  are  at 
fault.  It  may  also  be  true  that  they  respect  him 
more  for  the  fact  that  he  is  an  excellent  marksman. 
Near  Hugunin's  is  a  little  log  structure  used  oc- 
casionally as  a  sanctuary  by  the  Methodists.  This 
marks  the  northern  limits  of  civilization,  as  far  as 
our  vision  extends,  although  we  are  informed  that 
along  the  Indian  trail,  yonder,  Daniel  Elston  is  living, 
who  arrived  in  1832,  and  pre-empted  160  acres  of 
land;  and  that  at  a  place  called  New  Virginia,  nearly 


WE  LOOK  ABOUT  TOWN  45 

three  miles  north,  on   the  West  side  of  the  North 
Branch,  Archibald  ^iybourn  resides. 

As  the  West  Side  has  nothing  more  to  offer  us,  we 
again  cross  the  log  bridge.  Near  the  river  is  a  one 
and  a  half  story,  log  cabin,  built  in  1831,  by  ^ojm  S. 
C.  Hogan,  the  second  Postmaster,  and  used  by  him  un- 
til recently  as  a  general  store  in  connection  with  the 
Post  Office.  Now  the  Post  Office  is  on  the  south 
side  of  Water  street,  and  is  in  charge  of  Thomas 
Wat&jns,  as  Hogan,  though  nominally  P.  M.,  is  giving 
his  personal  attention  to  his  general  store,  one  door 
west  of  the  office.  On  the  same  side  of  Water  street, 
west  of  Franklin,  is  a  little  building  erected  in  1834, 
by  Dr.  John  T.  "temple,  a  Baptist  gentleman  who 
thought  that  his  church  people  might  like  to  use  it 
as  a  place  of  worship;  but  for  the  first  year  it  was 
used  mostly  by  the  Presbyterians.  Just  south  of 
this  building,  on  Franklin  street,  we  hear  the  merry 
ring  of  the  blacksmith's  hammer,  where  Clemens 
StQse,  Sr.  is  hammering  away,  manufacturing  calu- 
mets and  tomahawks  for  the  Indians.  George  W. 
Snow  &  Co.  are  starting  a  lumber  yard  near  here.  A 
little  east  of  Wells  is  the  dry  goods  firm  of  Moseley  & 
McCor^d,  gentlemen  who  stand  high  in  the  community, 
and  who  have  a  good  neighbor  in  Philo  Carpenter, 
who,  in  1832,  opened  the  first  drug  store. 

In  a  small  building  constructed  of  ash  and  walnut, 
on  the  opposite  corner  of  South  Water  and  La  Salle, 
P.  F.  W.  Peck  has  his  store  and  real  estate  office. 
This  building  he  erected  in  the  spring  of  1833,  and 


46  EARLY  CHICAGO 

it  is  reputed  to  be  the  third  frame  in  the  place.  It 
was  in  its  second  story  that  Chaplain  Jeremiah  Porter 
organized  the  First  Presbyterian  Church,  June  26, 
1833.  Nine  citizens  and  twenty-five  members  of  the 
garrison  took  part  in  the  first  service.  Mr.  Porter 
came  here  with  the  troops  in  1833. 

On  South  Water,  near  the  corner  of  Clark,  a  book 
store  is  being  fitted  up,  soon  to  be  occupied  by  Ste- 
phen F.  Xjale,  this  being  the  first  establishment 
devoted  exclusively  to  books  and  stationery,  though 
Russell  and  Craft  have  kept  books  in  their  general 
store. 

We  did  not  tarry  long  at  Isaac  D.  vHarmon's  dry 
goods  store  on  the  southwest  corner  of  Clark. 
These  primitive  South  Water  street  stores  have  no 
show  windows  nor  many  attractive  goods  to  exhibit. 
A  few  gaudy  articles  to  strike  the  fancy  of  the 
untutored  savage  can  be  found,  but  the  retailing 
of  this  class  of  goods  young  Harmon  graduated 
from  when  clerk  for  Oliver  Newberry  of  Detroit, 
who  was  Post  Sutler  at  Fort  Dearborn  in  1832. 

Proceeding  east  on  South  Water,  between  Clark 
and  Dearborn,  we  find  a  group  of  business  houses. 
The  firm  of  Harmon  ^Lobmis  have  a  general  store. 
Next  to  them,  east,  are  Pruyne  &  Kimberly.  It  was 
in  this  store  that  the  public  meeting  was  held  which 
"Resolved  to  organize  the  Town  of  Chicago,"  Dr. 
Kimberly  acting  as  secretary  of  the  gathering. 

Pruyne  &  Kimberly's  was  the  second  drug  store  in 
the  place,  they  having  opened  in  1833.  Just  west  of 


WE  LOOK  ABOUT  TOWN  47 

Dearborn  is  the  hardware  store  of  King,  Jones  &  Co., 
consisting  of  Henry  B.  Clarke,  William  Jones,  father 
of  our  fellow-passenger  Fernando,  and  Byram  King, 
son-in-law  to  Jones  Sr. 

Over  the  hardware  store  is  the  office  of  the  "  Weekly 
Democrat,"  established  by  John  Calhoun,  Nov.  26, 
1833.  It  is  the  only  paper  issued  in  the  vicinity;  no 
other  being  published  nearer  than  Detroit  or  Galena. 
But  the  "Democrat"  has  not  been  issued  since 
December  last,  having  been  out  of  paper,  a  supply 
of  which  is  on  our  brig. 

Then  come  two  more  dry  goods  stores,  the  first 
being  Walter  Kimhall's  and  the  second  Kiniball  & 
Porter's.  East  of  these  stores  an  Englishman  by  the 
name  of  F.  Thomas  is  opening  the  third  drug  store  in 
the  place.  Upon  the  southwest  corner  of  Dearborn 
and  South  Water  is  Medoise  Benjamin  Beaubien,  the 
eldest  son  of  the  Colonel,  who  is  also  engaged  in  the 
fancy  and  dry  goods  business,  having  quite  a  trade 
with  the  Indians,  to  whose  taste  he  caters  and  by 
whom  he  is  greatly  beloved.  Without  any  exception 
he  is  admitted  to  be  the  handsomest  man  in  the  place, 
though  showing  strongly  the  Aboriginal  features  of 
his  mother,  and  is  a  prominent  factor  in  the  frontier 
society,  where  he  is  more  than  welcome.  On  the 
southeast  corner  of  Dearborn  and  South  Water  is  a 
store  which  was  built  by  GeorgexW.  Dole,  in  1832, 
claimed  by  many  as  the  first  frame  store  and  the 
second  frame  building  erected  here.  We  find  New- 
berry  &  Dole  engaged  in  the  flour  and  forwarding 


48  EARLY  CHICAGO 

business.  Across  the  river  on  North  Water  street,  we 
read  the  sign: — 


KINZIE  &  HUNTER. 
FORWARDING  &  COMMISSION. 


This  is  the  John  H.  Kinzie,  who  came  here  more 
than  thirty  years  ago,  and  has  been  prominently 
identified  with  every  good  work  in  the  place.  His 
partner  is  his  brother-in-law,  Captain  David  Hunter. 
John  S.  Wright,  their  neighbor,  is  engaged  in  the 
same  business.  Robert  A.  Kin  ale  is  a  brother  of 
John  H.,  and  is  an  Indian  trader  near  the  river.  Near 
this  North  Side  trading  cabin  is  a  painter's  sign — 
Alexander  White's— which  appeals  to  the  fancy  and 
delights  the  Hoosiers.  It  is  a  large  sidewalk  sign, 
representing  a  workman  in  a  blue  coat  and  black 
cap,  with  a  pot  of  paint  in  one  hand  and  some  paint 
brushes  in  the  other,  crowding  his  way  through  a 
blue  globe,  which  he  has  split  in  every  direction  in 
his  efforts  to  force  a  passage.  The  old  fellow  is 
represented  as  saying:  It's  a  tight  squeeze  to  get 
through  the  world. 

J.  A.  Marshall,  Auction  &  Commission,  comes  next, 
The  ground  on  South  Water  farther  east  being  too 
low  for  stores,  we  turn  south  on  State  street  and, 
reaching  the  southwest  corner  of  Lake,  find  the 
original  St.  Mary's  Catholic  Church,  which  was  built 
by  Augustin  D.  Taylor  in  1833,  and  finished  the 
following  year,  being  the  first  edifice  erected  in  the 


THE  FIRST  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.    ERECTED  IN  1834  ON  THE  SOUTHWEST  CORNER  OF 
STATE  AND  LAKE  STREETS. 


WE  LOOK  ABOUT  TOWN  49 

place  exclusively  as  a  place  of  worship.  It  is  a  small 
structure,  of  course,  being  but  25  x  35,  but  still  it 
answers  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  designed.  We 
find  a  number  of  residences  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
fort,  in  the  oldest  of  which — the  first  one  south  of 
the  blockhouse — fronting  the  river,  James  Allen  has 
resided  since  1833.  It  is  of  logs,  and  has  in  front 
three  old  muskets  which  were  presented  to  Mr.  Allen 
by  General  Scott,  they  having  previously  been  in  the 
the  army  together.  Mr.  Allen  has  inserted  their 
muzzles  in  the  ground  and  is  utilizing  them  as  hitching 
posts.  v  x 

Near  Mr.  AHen  reside  Jacoo  Russell  and  S.  Lisle 
Smith,  the  unapproachable  Whig  orator.  Hard  by 
the  former  bank  of  the  river,  about  the  east  end  of 
Lake  street,  Colonel  'Beaubien  still  resides,  and  does 
a  little  Indian  trading  and  farming.  The  farming 
is  principally  done  by  proxy,  the  boys  doing  most  of 
the  work.  The  farm  is  east  of  State  street  and  north 
of  Randolph,  and  the  finest  potatoes  are  raised  at 
about  the  intersection  of  these  streets.  This  year  he 
has  pre-empted  the  Reservation  and  in  his  dreams 
and  in  the  glowing  fancies  of  his  wakeful  hours  he 
beholds  the  Chicago  of  the  future,  and  the  blissful 
day  when,  having  sold  his  claim  for  a  vast  amount,  he 
will  leisurely  watch  the  lowly  frontier  town  take  on 
the  lofty  airs  of  the  full  fledged  metropolis. 

Retracing  our  steps,  we  find  nothing  of  special  in- 
terest until  we  pass  State  street  again,  between  which 
and  Dearborn,  Lake  and  Water,  we  come  to  the 
Mansion  House,  the  fourth  tavern  in  the  place. 


50  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Originally  it  was  a  one  story  log  affair,  shrinking 
from  the  view  of  the  occasional  passer-by,  taking  to 
the  center  of  the  block,  in  which  feeling  of  diffidence 
Dexter  Graves  humored  it  when  he  built,  in  1831. 
Gaining  confidence  when  its  owner  promised  it  a 
bigger  brother  in  1834,  it  crept  towards  Lake  street 
where  it  joined  hands  with  a  two  story  building. 
On  the  southeast  corner  of  Randolph  and  Dearborn, 
William  Jones  resides,  or  rather  is  "settling"  his 
household  goods  as  they  arrive  from  the  brig.  East 
of  him  is  Alvin  Calhoun,  brother  of  the  editor.  On 
the  same  block,  on  the  east  side  of  Dearborn,  south  of 
the  alley,  is  a  double  tenement  of  one  room  each,  with 
the  usual  loft  above,  belonging  to  a  subaltern  officer 
in  the  fort.  James  H.  Collins,  an  attorney  occupies 
one,  and  is  greatly  vexed  that  the  head-strong  soldier 
will  not  rent  him  both.  Mr.  Collins  arrived  June  3d, 
1834. 

About  a  block  south  of  this  domicile,  Ashbel  Steele 
has  built  a  diminutive  dwelling  for  himself.  On  the 
south  side  of  Randolph  street,  a  little  east  of  Clark, 
not 

"Under  a  spreading  chestnut  tree, 
The  village  smithy  stands." 

Seth  P.  Warner  is  the  smith.  Going  north  on 
Dearborn  we  come  across  a  hardware  store  built  on 
a  path  made  by  the  cows  rounding  the  slough.  Not 
knowing  where  the  street  might  eventually  be,  J.  K. 
Botsford  has  built  facing  southeast,  near  Dearborn, 
while  his  back  door  meanders  off  towards  the  vicinity 
of  Lake  street.  Thomas  Churbb  we  find  keeping  a 


WE  LOOK  ABOUT  TOWN  51 

grocery  with  M.  L.  Satt&rlee  as  clerk,  in  a  two  storied 
frame  near  the  center  of  the  same  block  fronting 
north,  but  living  in  a  cottage  the  next  door  east. 
This  is  the  first  store  built  on  Lake  street.  On  the 
northwest  corner  of  Lake  and  Dearborn  streets  is 
Chicago's  sixth  hotel,  the  original  20x30  yellow,  two 
story  Tremont  House,  built  in  1833  by  Alanson  Sweet, 
with  Starr  Foot  as  first  proprietor.  West  of  the 
Treinont  House  is  the  frame  dwelling  of  Joseph 
Mefc^er,  carpenter  and  builder.  On  the  west  side 
of  Clark  street,  north  of  the  alley  between  Lake 
and  Randolph  is  the  PresbyteXan  church,  erected 
soon  after  the  Catholic.  Though  nearer  Clark  street 
than  Lake,  it  was  built  facing  the  latter,  the  door 
towards  the  north.  North  of  the  church  on  'Lake, 
a  little  west  of  Clark,  is  the  stage  office  of  Fnnk  & 
Bingham.  On  the  west  side  of  Dearborn,  north  of 
the  Tremont  is  the  New  York  Clothing  Store,  Tfrthill 
King,  proprietor,  Nat  King  salesman.  Immediately 
north  of  the  alley  is  another  auction  room,  probably 
the  largest  store  in  the  place.  Hogan's  late  assistant 
Postmaster,  Joftn^  Bates,  has  blossomed  out  into  a 
wide  awake  auctioneer,  the  first  one  in  Chicago. 

The  Court  H^use,  a  two  story  brick,  is  just  started 
on  the  Public  Square  on  its  northeast  corner,  the 
Square  itself  being  bounded  by  Clark,  Randolph, 
LaSalle  and  Washington  streets.  On  the  northwest 
corner  of  the  Square  is  the  small  log  jail,  concealed 
within  a  high  plank  palisade,  over  which  establishment 
John  Beach  presides,  occupying  a  house  partly  in  the 
same  enclosure,  facing  Randolph  street.  The  editor 


52  EARLY  CHICAGO 

of  Chicago's  only  paper  lives  on  the  west  side  of  Clark 
street,  north  of  Randolph.  On  the  east  side  of 
Clark  a  little  south  of  Washington  is  the  modest  home 
of  RobinsonXTripp,  whom  we  find  digging  ditches 
in  his  garden  and  preparing  the  rich  black  prairie 
soil  for  a  variety  of  seeds,  brought  by  him  from  the 
east.  His  garden,  a  little  carpenter  work  and  faith- 
ful attention  to  the  Methodist  end  of  his  business, 
keep  the  consumptive  looking  man  fully  employed. 
One  block  west  of  Tripp,  on  the  southwest  corner  of 
La  Salle  and  Washington  is  the  Hog  Pound,  but  little 
used,  as  nothing  is  fleet  enough  to  capture  the  swift- 
footed,  gaunt,  razor  backs  of  the  period.  Opposite 
the  Square,  on  Randolph,  a  little  west  of  La  Salle, 
Francis  CNcjherman  has  been  keeping  boarders  for  a 
year  and  dividing  with  Ashbel  Steele  the  mason  work 
of  the  place.  Sherman's  neighbor  is  Bernhard  Blasy, 
a  poor  German  baker,  just  starting  in  business  for 
himself,  having  been  recently  discharged  by  Thomas 
Cooke  for  getting  married.  A  short  distance  east  of 
LaSalle  street,  fronting  north  on  Lake,  is  Joseph 
Peacock,  the  pioneer  gunsmith.  About  a  block  di- 
rectly west  of  the  gunsmith's  is  the  bakery  of  Thomas 
Cooke.  West  of  the  baker  is  the  barber  shop  of 
Oliver  C.  Hanson.  On  the  northwest  corner  of  Lake 
and  Wells  we  find  mine  host  of  yesterday  in  the  cen- 
ter of  another  crowd,  listening  to  his  incomparable 
stories  told  in  his  inimitable  manner.  This  is  the 
Illinois  Exchange,  John  Murphy  landlord.  Hotel 
No.  7,  and  the  second  one  our  energetic  Mark  Beau- 
bien  has  built.  It  is  a  two  story  frame,  flush  with 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVEHSITY  OF  ILLINOIS. 


WE  LOOK  ABOUT  TOWN  53 

the  street,  and  while  only  a  year  old  it  is  growing  a 
brick  annex  on  the  north,  with  Ashbel  Steele  as  mor- 
tar slinger  and  brick  layer. 

Now  we  come  to  the  New  York  House,  the  8th 
hotel,  also  built  in  1834,  about  the  time  of  its  neighbor, 
the  Exchange,  by  Lathroh  Johnson  and  George 
Stevens,  its  present  proprietors.  It  is  standing  on 
the  north  side  of  Lake  street  a  short  distance  east  of 
Wells. 

The  days  of  new  log  cabins  in  the  place  are  fast 
passing  away.  James  Allen  and  George  W.  Snow 
&  Co.  can  supply  builders  with  pine  lumber.  It  is 
green  to  be  sure,  but  in  shrinking  it  does  not  leave 
quite  such  open  seams  as  we  find  between  the  crooked 
logs  formerly  employed.  Besides,  if  care  is  taken  to 
have  the  lumber  piled  with  laths  between  each  layer 
by  the  time  that  a  carpenter  engaged  by  the  day, 
has  jack-planed  the  pile  and  got  everything  ready 
for  the  painter — does  your  money  hold  out  long 
enough  to  enable  you  to  indulge  in  the  luxury  of 
paint — the  water  from  the  newly-hung  doors  will  not 
drip  enough  on  the  floor  to  do  any  particular  damage. 
Thank  your  stars  for  any  kind  of  pine  lumber  and  say 
nothing  but  your  prayers. 

But  what  interests  us  more  than  anything  we  have 
heretofore  seen  in  our  entire  walk  is  the  Indian  en- 
campment covering  the  entire  block  not  occupied  by 
the  hotel,  two  Water  street  stores  and  Warehouse. 
We  have  met  the  Pottawattomies  all  the  morning, 
singly  or  in  groups,  sauntering  along  the  streets  or 
in  the  stores,  wrapped  in  their  blankets  and  bright 


54  EARLY  CHICAGO 

shawls,  their  faces  painted  with  the  deepest  dyes. 
The  bucks  have  eagle  feathers  in  their  hair,  while  the 
squaws  have  silver  ear-rings,  and  their  fingers  are 
ornamented  with  broad  bands  of  the  same  metal, 
with  strings  of  beads  around  their  necks,  the  number 
of  which  is  only  limited  by  their  ability  to  purchase. 
All  who  are  not  bare-footed,  wear  buckskin  moccasins 
decorated  with  beads  and  stained  grasses,  and  they 
are  as  vain  of  their  fantastic  ornamentations  as  are 
the  most  fashionable  belles  of  their  charms  and  adorn- 
ments. We  feel  an  indescribable  repugnance  to  have 
them  near  us,  but,  notwithstanding  this,  the  encamp- 
ment with  its  wigwams,  ponies,  papooses,  and  the 
meagre  cooking  utensils  scattered  about  their  lodges, 
are  certainly  quite  interesting  to  one  who  has  never 
before  seen  anything  of  the  kind. 

Here  there  are  youngsters  on  a  pony  with  nothing 
but  a  hair  lariat  around  its  neck,  yelling  at  the  top  of 
their  strong  young  voices  and  kicking  the  poor  thing 
with  their  bare  feet  in  the  vain  effort  to  get  it  off  of 
a  walk.  Yonder  are  two  little  fellows  trying  the 
speed  of  their  respective  racers,  urged  by  the  shouts 
of  their  enthusiastic  comrades.  Another,  whose  lean, 
diminutive  charger  has  the  mastery  of  him  is  making 
good  time  amidst  the  dogs,  kettles,  squaws,  braves 
and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  the  encampment.  Sev- 
eral are  engaged  in  shooting  their  arrows  at  a  black- 
bird, which  some  of  them  have  killed  and  now  are 
tossing  in  the  air  to  test  the  skill  of  the  future  brave, 
changing  the  programme  occasionally  by  placing  the 
bedraggled  victim  on  a  stake.  A  number  somewhat 


WE  LOOK  ABOUT  TOWN  55 

larger  have  been  to  the  river  fishing,  and  have  left 
the  perch  by  the  wigwams  until  such  time  as  the 
squaws  shall  see  fit  to  prepare  them  for  supper,  or 
rather  until  such  time  as  their  appetite  shall  prompt 
their  being  cooked.  Many  little  rascals  are  scuffling 
and  chasing  each  other,  while  their  indolent  elders 
sit  on  their  heels  talking,  or  lounge  on  the  grass 
smoking.  But,  the  most  interesting  of  all  are  the 
papooses  lashed  to  their  mother's  backs  in  blankets, 
or  in  their  rockerless  cradles  leaning  against  anything 
that  will  furnish  support,  or,  if  more  convenient, 
placed  on  their  backs  on  the  ground.  Some  of  these 
barsoues  had  a  number  of  small  bells  suspended  from 
the  top.  But  entertaining  as  this  strange  scene  is, 
we  shall  probably  see  enough  of  it  in  the  future,  and 
so  we  proceed  with  our  itinerancy. 

On  Lake  street,  northeast  corner  of  LaSalle,  in  a 
12  x  12,  is  Solomon  "Lincoln,  the  "  Prairie  Tailor. " 
He  built  the  shop  a  year  ago,  but  is  not  satisfied  with 
his  venture  and  is  converting  the  place  into  a  saloon, 
which  will  be  the  first  room  in  town  used  exclusively 
as  a  place  for  selling  liquor,  the  bar  rooms  of  the 
taverns  being  appropriated  to  various  other  purposes. 
Next  to  Lincoln's  on  the  north  are  two  stores  re- 
cently erected  by  Charley  Chapman.  In  the  south 
one  is  H.  H.  Magie.  Here  we  find  a  large  stock  of 
dry  goods  and  groceries. 

Our  walk  now  having  exhausted  the  town  as  it  has 
us,  we  return  to  the  Green  Tree,  which  is  not  destitute 
of  interest,  as  the  host  is  again  engaged  in  conversa- 
tion concerning  the  town's  history  and  is  talking  in 
the  same  strain  that  we  heard  last  night. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  LANDLORD  TALKS 

"  Dave, "  remarked  the  man  who  was  talking  with 
the  landlord,  "you  said  last  night  that  the  Wolf 
Point  was  the  first  tavern  built  in  the  town.  This 
must  have  been  the  next  one,  then,  wasn't  it?" 

"No!  Yon  one  across  ther  creek  on  ther  north 
side  was  ther  nexV 

"  I  did  not  know  there  was  one  on  the  north  side, 
excepting  the  Lake  House,  now  building." 

"Oh,  yes!  Sam  Miller,  son-in-law  er  John  Kinzie, 
built  that  thing  jist  north  er  ther  creek  clost  ter  ther 
North  Branch,  in  1832.  'Twas  a  one  story  log  affair 
at  fust;  then  he  added  a  two  story  log  eddition  kiv- 
ered  with  split  clap  burds.  He  tuk  out  ther  second 
tarvern  license  in  the  place,  he  did.  Kep  store  thur, 
too,  but  I  reckon  he  didn't  never  do  no  shakes  er 
trade,  'cause  he  sole  out  in  about  a  year  an'  went  to 
Trail  Creek*.  It  hasn't  never  been  kep'  as  a  tarvern 
since.  Miller  reckoned  trade  'ed  be  better  if  he  had  a 
bridge,  so  'bout  '32  he  built  one  er  logs  a  little  north 
er  his  tarvern,  but  it  didn't  'mount  to  nothin'." 

"Well,  what  about  the  Green  Tree?  When  was 
this  built?" 

"In  '33.  Jim  Kinzie  built  her.  'T  wuz  ther  fifth 
tarvern  built  in  ther  place." 

*Michigan  City. 

67 


58  EARLY  CHICAGO 

"I  thought  he  built  the  Wolf?" 

"He  did,  but  some  how  nuther,  it  didn't  kinder 
jibe  with  his  idees.  Said  he'd  got  sick  an'  tired  er 
log  cabin's  an'  he  wuz  boun'  to  hev  a  white  man's 
house  built  er  boards.  But  he  soon  got  mighty 
sicker  bilden  frame  houses.  Yer  see  he  got  some 
fellers  on  the  job  as  hadn't  never  seed  er  frame  in  all 
thur  livin'  born  days,  nur  boards  nuther,  I  reckon,  by 
ther  way  thur  looked  at  'em.  Reckon  he'd  er  never 
got  her  up  ef  Cobb  hadn't  er  kim  along  an'  gin  'em  a 
han'." 

"What,  that  harness  maker,  who  used  to  be  across 
the  street?" 

"That's  the  chap.  Ther  ain't  no  uther  cobs  roun' 
hur  but  corn  cobs,  an'  they  ain't  bildin'  no  houses  as 
I've  hearn  tell  on,  Haw,  haw,  haw!" 

"Why,  what  did  Cobb  know  about  building?" 

"Haw,  haw,  haw!  That's  jist  ther  fun  on't.  He 
didn't  know  nuthin'.  But  he  didn't  let  on  he  didn't. 
He  'lowed  he  knowed  all  'bout  it.  Ennyway,  he 
wuz  clean  strapped,  wuz  Cobb,  an'  he  hankered  fur 
er  job  er  some  kine.  Cobb,  you  know's  got  er  mighty 
sharp  little  eye;  kin  look  rite  thru  a  two  inch  plank, 
he  kin,  an't  don't  hev  ter  hev  no  knot  hole  in't  nuther. 
Jim  seed  him  lookin  roun  'zif  he  wuz  itchin'  ter  take 
er  hoi,  an  ast  him  if  he  wuz  er  jiner. 

"  He  sez, '  you  bet  I  be,  er  boss  one. ' 

"'That's  just  what  I  want,'  says  Jim.  'What'll 
you  tax  ter  tackle  ther  job?' 

"'Two  dollars  a  day,'  says  Cobb. 


THE  LANDLORD  TALKS  59 

"Til  gin  yer  er  dollar  an'  six  bits, '  sez  Jim,  ' an' 
yer  needn't  do  nuthin'  but  boss  ther  men. ' 

" '  Agreed, '  sez  Cobb,  an'  he  went  at  her  an'  cleaned 
up  nigh  onto  $60.  You'd  orter  seed  Cobb's  eyes 
stick  out  when  ther  ole  man  paid  him  that  air  money. " 

"  That  $60  wouldn't  build  his  shop  and  stock  it  too, 
would  it?" 

"Well!  You  see,  it  was  this  way.  He  run  agin 
a  feller  name  er  Goss.  I  think  he  lives  down  ter 
Walker's  grove,  whur  ther  mill  be." 

"At  Plainfield,  forty  miles  from  here?" 

"You're  right,  you  are.  But  he  needn't  ter  gone 
so  fur  from  hum  fur  his  lumber,  if  he  hadn't  ter  been 
in  sich  an  all  fired  hurry,  'cause  Dave  Gamer  brung  in 
er  hull  cargo  that  fall.  Well,  as  I  wuz  sayin',  this 
Goss  chipped  in  about  $65  an'  it  kind  er  sot  him  up 
in  purty  good  shape." 

"Was  Goss  a  harness  maker?" 

"No!  He  didn't  know  nothin'  more  'bout  buildin' 
harness  then  Cobb  did  'bout  buildin'  tarverns.  No, 
he  jist  done  it  for  ter  help  Cobb.  But  Goss  cum  out 
all  right.  I  reckon  'twas  the  best  streak  of  luck  he 
ever  had,  caus  in  about  er  year  Cobb  bought  him  out 
and  gin  him  his  $65  back  an'  $250  to  boot." 

"  Well,  Dave,  what  is  there  on  the  north  side?  " 

"Oh,  nothin'  much.  Them  fellers  feel  kinder 
stuck  up  over  thur.  Thinks  they  kin  rule  ther  roost 
when  they  gits  that  air  big  three-story  hotle  done. 
They  aint  goin'  to  call  thet  no  tarvern,  they  aint. 
Not  much,  Mary  Ann!" 


60  EARLY  CHICAGO 

"Who  is  building  it,  Dave?" 

"Why,  John  H.  Kinzie,  an'  Gurd  Hubbard,  o' 
course,  and  Cap  Hunter,  Major  Campbell,  an'  Dole 
an'  Doc  Egan.  That  Egan  is  a  jolly  Irishman.  By 
George,  one  er  his  smiles  would  make  a  feller  laugh 
at  his  own  funeral." 

"How  did  they  come  to  call  that  droll  looking 
house,  Cob  Web  Castle?" 

"  Yer  see,  as  ter  ole  Cob  Web,  'twaz  erhead  er  my 
time,  but  I've  hearn  tell  that  one  er  ther  Injun  agents 
what  lived  thur  was  an  ole  batchelder,  er  queer  duck 
what  hated  flies  wUss  nor  pizen,  so  he  jis  let  ther 
spiders  be  ter  kitch  flies,  what  was  thicker  nor  pussly. 
He  thunk  ther  more  webs  thur  spinned  thur  less 
flies  thurd  be,  so  he  wouldn't  let  no  one  knock  none 
down,  an'  thur  boys  got  ter  callen  of  her  Cob  Web 
Casle." 

"Dave,  what  is  the  building  on  the  north  bank  of 
the  river  just  east  of  Clark  street?" 

"Why,  that's  Watkins'  skule  house." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  is  a  poor  place  for  a  school 
house.  There  are  but  few  families  on  that  side  of 
the  river." 

"Why  that's  jist  it,  jist  it  'zactly.  Them  fellers 
lowed  thur  wuz  goin'ter  hev  thur  hull  town  over  thur, 
so  Colonel  Owen,  an'  Colonel  Hamilton  built  er  skule 
house,  an'  got  John  Watkins  ter  run  her.  Then  thur 
wasn't  sasserfried,  nuthin'  ud  do  but  thur  mus'  hev 
er  well,  so  thur  jis  sot  to  an'  coaxed  ther  Town  Trustees 
ter  gin  em  er  well  last  year,  an  make  we  poor  devils 
help  pay  fer't.  They  purtended  they  lived  too  fur 


THE  LANDLORD  TALKS  61 

from  ther  river;  but  they're  that  stuck  up  they  wont 
use  river  water  like  we  has  ter,  coss  a  cow  or  a  hoss 
gits  a  drink  thur  onst  in  a  while." 

"Why  don't  you  have  the  trustees  put  in  a  well 
for  you  people  over  here  then?" 

"  Why,  they  don't  keer  shucks  fer  we  uns!  They 
thinks  we  aint  nothin'  but  er  lot  er  Injuns  an'  half- 
breeds!" 

"  A  well  cannot  cost  a  great  deal." 

"Yer  bet  it  does,   though!" 

"How  much?  Not  over  two  or  three  hundred 
dollars?" 

"Oh!  cracky  no.  Not  quite  er  hundred.  Jist 
'zactly  ninety-five  fifty  fur  well,  stunnin'  on  her  up, 
curb,  platform,  win'less,  rope,  bucket,  tin  dipper  an' 
all." 

"That  appears  cheap  for  a  good  well.  Well, 
Dave!  What  about  the  school  house?  Is  it  used  for 
a  school  now?" 

"  I  reckon  not.  Ther  Tiscopals  hole  meetin's  thur 
onst  in  a  while.  Thur  tryin'  mighty  hard  ter  build 
er  Meetin'  House,  an'  brag  thull  do  it,  too,  soon  us  thu 
brick  hotle  is  chock  full  er  boarders.  But  that  hotle 
won't  be  built  this  year,  an'  as  fur  thur  meetin'  house, 
them  chaps  don't  get  a  durned  cent  outer  me,  see  if 
thur  do.  I  don't  go  to  meetin'  nowhurs.  My  ole 
woman  kinder  likes  ter  git  inter  thur  canoe  onest  in 
er  while,  evenin's,  an'  paddle  over  ter  thur  Methodis'. 
Thur's  some  purty  good  fellers  goes  thur.  Jess 
Walker,  thur  Injun  Missioner,  yer  know,  what  lives 
out  ter  thur  0  Plain,  he  comes  sometimes,  Bill  See, 


62  EARLY  CHICAGO 

thur  blacksmith  over  here  preaches  when  it's  too 
muddy  fur  Jess  an'  thother  chaps  ter  pull  through. 
Bill's  allers  loaded  fur  shootin'  off  ther  gospel,  but 
sometimes  Whitehead  gits  ther  start  er  him.  My 
ole  woman  says  when  it  comes  ter  prayin'  an'  preach- 
in'  Whitehead  can  beat  See  out  er  his  boots. " 

"  What  took  the  Methodists  over  to  the  North  Side, 
when  most  of  the  folks  there  are  Episcopalians?" 

"Yer  see,  'twas  this  way.  They'd  been  holdin' 
meetin's  over  thur  in  thur  skule  house  an'  in  thur 
little  shanty  jis  north  er  here  off  an'  on  fur  a  year  or 
more,  an'  thur  kinder  thunk  they'd  like  ter  hev  er 
reglar  gospel  shop  er  thur  own,  but  thurs  powerful 
weak,  thur  Methodis'  is,  so  thur  jis  called  on  ther 
North  Side  nabobs  with  er  scription  paper  an  got  er 
right  smart  lot  er  spondulix,  'bout  all  ther  needed,  I 
reckon.  It  didn't  took  er  drefful  sight  er  cash,  coz 
Mark  Noble  tole  em  thur  could  go  up  ter  his  North 
Branch  timber  an  cut  all  ther  stuff  thur  wanted  fur 
meetin'  house  an  fire  wood.  So  er  Scotchman,  name 
er  Stewart,  an'  Bill  Whitehead — yer  see  Whitehead 's 
er  carpenter  as  well's  gospel  chap — got  two  or  three 
fellers  ter  help  em  las  summer  cut  down  trees,  an  hew 
logs,  do  ther  framin'  an'  sich,  an'  ther  fust  thing  er 
feller  knowed,  Steve  Beggs,  Jess  Walker,  John  Sin- 
clair, Bill  Whitehead  an'  See  wuz  yellin'  over  thur  one 
day  like  mad.  I  thunk  suthin'  mus'  er  broken  loose 
with  ther  Pottawattomies,  but  ther  ole  woman  allowed 
thur  wuz  dedicatin'  ther  new  meetin'  house.  An 
sure  miff,  thud  got  er  bildin'  bout  25  x  40  all  skew 
gee,  an'  thur  wuz  that  tickled  you  could  hear  them 


THE  LANDLORD  TALKS  63 

shout  and  pray  half  way  ter  Ottawa.  Reckon  thur 
thunk  ther  Lord  warn't  roun'  here,  but  wuz  boun'  ter 
make  him  hear  if  he  wuz  in  this  belt  er  timber  any- 
wurs.  Charley  Wissincraft  is  kind  er  wheel  hoss  in 
thur  crowd  an'  when  he  gits  fairly  ter  goin',  he  hollers 
that  loud  yer  kin  hear  him  way  up  ter  Green  Bay. 
Jim  Rockwood  is  ther  head  boss  of  ther  Sunday- 
School,  and  scoops  in  all  of  ther  papooses  big  'miff  and 
the  little  Injuns  and  half  breeds  lyin'  roun'  loose. 
But  ther  Methodis'  wuz  big  fools  fur  buildin'  over 
ther,  jist  the  same.  I  tole  ther  ole  woman  they'd 
be  slidin'  the  whole  shootin'  match  'cross  ther  river  on 
ther  ice  sometime  and  put  her  on  ther  South  Side, 
where  ther  people  live." 

(Which  practically  took  place.) 


CHAPTER  V 
WE  SETTLE  DOWN 

The  next  morning  we  became  quite  interested  in 
an  Indian  and  a  French-Canadian,  who  were  at  our 
breakfast  table.  The  latter  gave  his  name  as  Alexis 
Clermont,  and  told  us  he  was  mail  carrier  between 
Fort  Dearborn  and  Shingletown,  (Green  Bay),  and 
that  the  Indian  or  his  brother  always  traveled  with 
him.  They  got  in  the  previous  evening  and  expected 
to  start  back  to-day  or  to-morrow.  He  was  in  a 
hurry  to  get  off,  as  he  slept  better  out  of  doors  than 
in  a  house.  Father  asked  him  if  he  slept  out  of  doors 
when  in  Green  Bay,  and  he  replied,  "No  Monsieur. 
Ize  une  cabin  zere,  zat  une  difference  make." 

"How  often  do  you  make  the  trip?" 

"  Une  time  zes  mont. " 

"Why  don't  you  have  a  horse  if  it  takes  so  long 
as  that?" 

The  man  of  mails  looked  at  his  comrade,  who 
evidently  understood  some  English,  had  a  good  laugh 
and  replied, "  I  go  more  quicker  zan  ze  pony.  Shingle- 
town  she  be  200  milez,  Ka-we-ko  an'  me  we  go  by 
four  dayz  ven  ze  no  snow,  no  too  much  mud.  Ze 
trail  he  be  two  feetz  vide,  six  inchy  down.  Ven  ze 
much  tunes  rain  ze  be  more  zan  six  inchy,"  (said  ith 
a  quiet  laugh).  "  Ze  pony  in  ze  vinter  no  fine  zumzin 

65 


66  EARLY  CHICAGO 

to  eatz.  Ka-we-ko  an'  me,  ve  fine  ze  Inguns,  ve  getz 
blenty  by  zem.  Zummy  timez  zey  be  go  for  ze 
berries  in  ze  big  woods,  ve  no  fine  zem.  Ven  ze 
Vinter  he  come,  zey  stay  in  big  voods  by  zum  rever. 
Zey  much  holez  make  in  ze  ice,  ven  zey  plenty  much 
fish  finez.  Ven  ve  Ingun  fine,  ve  plenty  eat  have. 
Zummy  timez,  vinter  timez  he  makez  no  differenz, 
zey  give  uz.  Ven  ve  Ingun  no  fine,  ve  diz  eatz"  (show- 
ing us  from  a  large  side-pocket  scraps  of  jerked 
venison,  pemmican  and  parched  corn).  "Putty 
much  timez  ze  Ingun  by  ze  lake.  No  white  manz 
zezept  py  Milwaukee,  Shepoygan  and  Manitowoc. 
No  much  in  zem  townz.  Maype  two,  three,  four, 
maype  half  dutzen.  Plenty  mose  pe  traders." 

"  I  do  not  see  how  you  can  walk  two  hundred  miles 
in  four  days  and  carry  any  mail!  How  much  does 
the  mail  weigh?" 

"  Ze  pag,  ven  ze  pe  full  ze  no  can  weigh  more  zan 
sixty  poundz.  Ze  planketz  Ka-we-ko  he  takez.  Py 
and  py  me  take  ze  planket,  Ka-we-ko  ze  mail. " 

"How  long  have  you  been  carrying  the  mail?" 

"Two  yearz.  Mine  fren  Periolat  he  carry  ze 
Eastern  mail  from  Nilez  to  Fort  Dearborn  py  1833, 
ven  ze  come  py  wagon.  Putty  much  heavy  now?" 

We  afterwards  learned  that  Erastus  Bowen,  years 
ago  veterinary  surgeon  for  the  Fire  Department, 
drove  that  first  stage  referred  to  by  Clermont. 

Just  then,  the  landlord,  who  had  been  listening  to 
the  conversation,  remarked:  "Aleck  is  all  right  in 
his  yarn.  I  bin  all  through  that  air  country,  all  over 
ther  northern  part  of  ther  state  two  year  ago,  clean 


WE  SETTLE  DOWN  67 

down  ter  Ottaway,  an'  it  only  had  five  log  cabins  in 
ther  hull  town,  an'  only  one  cabin  between  hur  an' 
thur;  and  clean  out  as  fur  as  Galena  thur  wern't  not 
any  skule  house  nur  meetin'  house,  nur  nuthin'." 

We  spent  the  following  days  looking  for  a  place 
to  make  into  a  home.  Towards  the  last  of  the  week, 
hearing  that  an  English  family,  which  occupied  the 
two  storied  building  on  the  south  side  of  Lake  street, 
east  of  Wells,  in  the  front  room  of  which  Hanson  had 
his  shop,  were  going  to  move  into  the  country  as  soon 
as  the  roads  were  sufficiently  settled,  father  purchased 
the  house,  Hanson  agreeing  to  vacate  immediately. 

At  the  same  time  he  spoke  to  Charley  Chapman 
about  selling  the  small  story  and  a  half  frame,  which 
he  had  just  moved  onto  the  corner  of  Wells  and 
Randolph  streets.  Charley  asked  a  fabulous  price 
for  it,  as  he  was  well  aware  that  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  get  any  kind  of  a  place,  a  circumstance 
our  crafty  friend  took  advantage  of.  Father  was 
fearful  lest  he  had  stolen  the  house,  as  he  had  heard 
how  Charley,  meeting  a  new-comer,  who  had  not 
where  to  lay  his  head,  lied  to  him,  as  was  his  wont, 
representing  himself  as  the  owner  of  another  man's 
house,  (Ashbel  Steele)  and  rented  it  to  him,  pocketing 
a  goodly  sum  in  advance,  and  went  off  whistling.  So 
father  had  no  confidence  in  the  man.  Besides,  the 
floor  had  been  taken  up  and  was  out  of  doors,  a  suspi- 
cious circumstance  which  Chapman  explained  by 
asserting  that  it  had  been  done  to  make  the  house 
easier  to  move.  Still,  as  it  was  about  the  only  va- 
cant thing  in  town,  and  it  being  uncertain  when  he 


00 


68  EARLY  CHICAGO 

should  obtain  possession  of  the  other  place,  father 
made  the  purchase  on  Saturday.  Rain  setting  in  he 
hastily  threw  the  boards  into  the  building,  and  placed 
enough  of  them  on  which  to  set  the  stove  and  a  few 
of  the  most  essential  household  goods,  and  on  Sun- 
day morning  we  took  possession. 

Father  was  always  a  faithful  observer  of  the  Sab- 
bath, and,  mind  you,  I  do  not  affirm  that  he  nailed 
the  floor  down,  made  a  table,  put  up  a  stove  and 
several  beds,  arranged  furniture  and  otherwise  set- 
tled down  on  the  Lord's  Day.  But  I  know  that  the 
work  was  done  and  that  the  Bennett  family  took 
tea  with  us,  praising  mother's  hot  biscuits,  on  that 
Sunday  afternoon.  There  was  no  Universalist 
church  in  Chicago  at  that  time,  and  I  have  always 
entertained  the  suspicion  that  the  subsequent  senior 
deacon  of  St.  Paul's  society  bent  and  cracked  that 
particular  Sabbath,  if  he  did  not  break  it.  As  I  had 
no  conscientious  scruples  on  that  subject  myself,  I 
helped  to  the  best  of  my  ability. 

The  Bennett  family  consisted  of  Samuel  C.  and 
wife,  and  their  daughters  Mary  and  Eliza.  So  charmed 
were  they  with  our  establishment  that  they  pre- 
vailed upon  mother  to  give  them  the  use  of  the 
upper  half-story,  though  it  was  reached  only  by  a 
ladder. 

The  Wells  street  purchase  was  moved  to  the  Lake 
street  place  and  joined  to  the  store  on  the  east,  placed 
broadside  to  the  street,  about  twenty  feet  back  from 
the  line  of  the  lot.  Father  had  a  sidewalk  put  down 
in  front  of  the  store  and  as  far  east  as  the  addition 


WE  SETTLE  DOWN  69 

extended,  running  a  narrower  one  to  the  door  he  had 
made  in  the  addition.  He  also  put  a  porch  along 
the  north  front  of  the  annex  which  was  to  be  our 
parlor. 

It  was  not  many  days  before  the  store  and  rooms 
were  vacated,  thoroughly  renovated,  and 

.'   THE  NEW  YORK  MILLINERY  STORE    ! 

the  pioneer  of  its  kind,  was  ready  for  business;  the 
stock  having  been  brought  by  my  mother  from  New 
York,  where  she  had  been  engaged  in  the  same  busi- 
ness. Our  well  lighted  parlor  soon  became  the  cen- 
ter of  attraction  for  the  Indians  encamped  opposite, 
and  others  whom  they  brought  with  them  to  listen 
to  the  first  piano  they  had  ever  heard.  Being  sum- 
mer time,  door  and  windows  were  usually  open,  and 
no  sooner  did  mother  or  sister  Georgiana  begin  to 
play  than  the  dusky  audience  would  assemble.  In 
fact,  when  the  door  was  open  it  was  their  custom  to 
walk  in  and,  by  signs,  request  some  music,  which  was 
usually  furnished  them.  We  are  apt  to  think  that 
these  people  are  stoical  and  unemotional,  but  I  be- 
lieve that  this  characteristic  is  more  likely  to  be  re- 
served for  occasions  which  test  their  courage  and 
indifference  to  pain,  rather  than  when  anything  pleases 
them.  Certainly  the  oldest  chiefs  exhibited  as  much 
curiosity  in  the  "singing  bird  box,"  (for  they  believed 
it  was  filled  with  little  feathered  songsters,)  and  ap- 
parently were  as  much  delighted  with  the  music  as 


70  EARLY  CHICAGO 

were  the  young  girls  themselves.  It  was  curious  to 
watch  them  peer  into  the  instrument,  crawl  under  it, 
touch  the  keys  and  then  look  at  each  other  and  laugh; 
old  and  young  were  equally  interested,  astonished 
and  delighted.  At  first  our  people  were  afraid  of 
the  savage  crowd,  and  would  not  admit  them,  but 
as  we  let  the  little  folks  come  in,  it  was  difficult  to 
keep  out  the  squaws  and  papooses.  The  braves  soon 
followed,  and  we  had  to  take  the  precaution  of  keep- 
ing everything  out  of  the  room  which  their  klepto- 
maniacal  propensities  might  tempt  them  to  pilfer. 
At  times  they  became  so  demonstrative  and  annoying 
that  we  had  to  send  for  Captain  Johnson,  one  of  the 
proprietors  of  the  New  York  house  opposite,  who 
soon  cleared  them  from  the  room. 

Besides  the  piano,  there  were  a  number  of  pieces  of 
old  time  mahogany  furniture  that  our  people  had 
brought  with  them,  which  I  learned  to  appreciate 
after  they  had  "gone  glimmering  through  the  dream 
of  things  that  were."  Among  them  was  a  card  table 
with  a  massive,  elaborately  carved  central  support 
and  a  top  which,  sliding  half  round,  unfolded  to  twice 
its  original  size.  There  was  a  work  stand  in  keeping 
with  it,  the  upper  drawer  of  which,  on  being  opened, 
presented  a  green  baize  surface,  on  either  side  of 
which  were  receptacles  for  blotting  ink-sand,  ink, 
wafers,  sealing  wax  and  quill  pens.  The  writing 
material  was  revealed  by  lifting  up  the  baize  top. 
The  center  drawer  was  devoted  to  sewing  implements; 
and  upon  drawing  out  the  lower  one  you  had  a  con- 
venient and  handsome  silk  work-bag  extending  to 


WE  SETTLE  DOWN  71 

within  a  few  inches  of  the  floor.    On  each  side  of  the 
table  were  leaves  which  let  down. 

There  was  a  long  legged  dressing  table  with  glass 
drawer-knobs,  looking  for  all  the  world  like  a  gauky 
boy  on  stilts;  an  old  fashioned  bureau  with  brass  pulls 
nearly  as  large  as  the  door  knockers  of  colonial  days  ; 
stiff  parlor  chairs,  which  I  never  fancied,  with  black 
haircloth  seats,  as  uncomfortable  as  could  be  made. 
But  the  dining  chairs  were  invariably  a  comfort. 
They  seemed  to  support  you  everywhere  and  to  be 
adapted  to  all  ages  and  sizes.  The  associations  may 
have  had  something  to  do  with  my  attachment  for 
those  particular  chairs,  seeing  they  were  used  upon 
occasions  which  are  among  the  happiest  moments  of 
a  boy's  existence.  One  always  felt  as  much  at  ease 
in  one  of  those  "  flag  bottoms"  as  in  a  kitchen  with 
an  indulgent  grandmother.  Father  called  them  his 
"  Universalist "  chairs  because  he  had  a  dozen  of 
them  made  to  order  in  Boston  by  a  brother  Uni- 
versalist about  1824.  I  have  still  two  of  them  and  they 
are  as  perfect  as  if  just  turned  out  of  a  new  factory, 
for  old  furniture,  and  vastly  more  prized  than  if  they 
had  been. 

But  the  old  mahogany  bedstead,  with  its  high, 
fluted  posts  extending  well  up  towards  the  top  of  a 
ten  foot  ceiling,  with  its  gorgeous  canopy  top,  and 
beautiful  curtains  reaching  nearly  to  the  floor,  im- 
pressed me  as  being  something  as  rich  and  stately  as 
the  throne  of  an  Oriental  monarch.  And  well  do  I 
remember  the  little  red  trundle  bed  which  was  shut 
up  beneath  the  throne  during  the  day,  as  safe  from 


72  EARLY  CHICAGO 

observation  as  my  sister's  modest  jewelry,  which 
nestled  in  a  Chinese  box  that  was  only  to  be  opened 
by  pressing  a  certain  square  of  its  mosaic  exterior. 
When  the  shades  of  night  gathered  and  two  weary 
youngsters  were  ready  to  lose  themselves  in  the  sweet 
forgetfulness  of  sleep,  out  from  its  shadowy  moorings 
rolled  the  little,  red  trundle  bed,  the  garments  of  day 
were  doffed,  of  night  were  donned,  little  prayers  of 
trust  were  said,  good  nights  were  sweetly  spoken, 
the  lips  by  loving  kisses  sealed,  all  outer  gloom  ex- 
cluded by  drooping  eyelids,  the  ears  closed  to  the  dull 
monotony  of  sound,  and  Morpheus  took  us  in  his 
soothing  arms  till  the  call  for  breakfast  awakened  us. 
Neither  wealth,  power  nor  fame  can  gain  such  sleep 
as  was  secured  in  the  trundle  bed  of  childhood. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  NEW  YORK  MILLINERY  AND  A  FEW 
NEIGHBORS 

My  mother  possessed  excellent  taste  in  her  milli- 
nery, and,  being  anxious  to  give  satisfaction  to  all 
patrons,  it  was  not  long  before  these  qualities  were 
appreciated  by  the  public.  Nor  was  that  reputation 
confined  to  the  immediate  neighborhood.  In  fact 
for  years  she  supplied  with  bonnets  ladies  whom  she 
had  never  seen.  Men  would  come  in  from  all  parts 
of  the  country  to  make  purchases,  knowing  nothing 
about  meeting  the  exacting  requirements  of  the  occa- 
sion, and  they  were  obliged  to  depend  on  the  taste  and 
honor  of  the  dealer.  This  placing  of  mother  upon 
her  honor  was  her  delight,  and  resulted  also  in  the 
delight  of  her  patrons.  Taking  a  description  of  the 
contour  of  face,  complexion,  color  of  hair  and  eyes  of 
the  girls  and  the  matrons  to  be  supplied,  she  was 
enabled  to  determine  what  was  becoming  to  each,  and 
would  pick  out  and  trim  the  bonnets  accordingly. 
She  would  never  work  off  an  "  old  shop  keeper"  upon 
a  man.  Any  order  that  was  left  to  her  honor  and 
judgment  was  filled  from  the  newest  styles,  with 
good  taste  and  at  a  fair  price,  with  the  notification: 
"Any  order  filled  by  me  can  be  returned  at  my  ex- 
pense and  the  price  fully  refunded,  if  entire  satisfac- 

78 


74  EARLY  CHICAGO 

tion  is  not  given. "  As  a  result,  she  was  soon  sending 
bonnets  to  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  in  a  few 
years  had  worked  into  a  pretty  fair  wholesale  trade. 

They  wore  bonnets  in  those  good  old  times,  as  you 
will  remember;  not  a  scrimped  piece  of  lace  with  a 
feather  on  one  side,  and  a  flower  on  the  other  and  a 
bird  a-top  of  all,  nor  yet  a  great  monstrosity,  large 
as  a  wash-tub,  heaped  with  all  the  decorations  pos- 
sible for  a  frail  neck  to  carry.  But  when  mother 
got  through  with  them,  did  not  those  girls  look  pretty, 
though,  with  their  rosy  cheeks  embowered  in  delicate 
ruche  which  encircled  their  becoming  bonnets! 
You  young  men  who  never  saw  beauty  enshrined  in 
ruche,  ask  your  father,  uncle  or  grandfather  how 
it  used  to  look  when  it  took  the  form  of  a  sweet  face 
and  laughing  eyes  beneath  a  dainty  ruche-encircled 
bonnet. 

On  June  20,  1836,  the  canal  commissioners  sold 
some  canal  lots.  My  people  were  anxious  to  purchase 
the  Lake  street  lot,  where  they  had  settled,  and 
father,  being  busy  superintending  a  gang  of  men  em- 
ployed by  him  to  dig  a  ditch  around  320  acres  of 
land  he  had  pre-empted  at  Galewood,  to  prevent 
anyone  from  "jumping  his  claim,"  arranged  with 
our  neighbor,  George  Smith,  to  bid  in  the  lot  for  him. 
This  he  promised  to  do,  desiring  to  purchase  the 
corner  lot  for  his  own  office.  But  his  greed  got  the 
better  of  his  honor,  and  he  bid  in  both  lots  for  him- 
self. When  he  came  to  report  what  he  had  done,  and 
handed  to  mother  the  money  that  she  had  advanced , 
her  indignation  knew  no  bounds.  It  is  stated  on 


unimpeachable  authority  that  she  seized  a  bonnet 
stand  and  rushed  at  the  faithless  steward  with  her 
skull-crusher  raised  on  high,  and  with  her  voice  still 
higher  she  shouted:  "You  Scotch  scoundrel!  Get 
out  of  my  store  or  I  will  knock  you  down  before 
to-morrow  morning!"  He  evidently  believed  that 
she  was  in  earnest  and  did  not  bide  to  test  her  threat. 

Being  thus  disappointed,  father  purchased  the 
eighty  feet  on  the  south  side  of  Randolph  adjoining 
the  southwest  corner  of  Wells.  After  Smith  had 
secured  title  to  the  lot,  my  people  could  not  brook 
the  thought  of  being  the  tenant  of  a  man  who  had 
shown  himself  so  dishonorable,  and  they  accordingly 
engaged  Chester  Tupper,  Chicago's  first  house  mover, 
to  move  them  to  a  vacant  lot  three  doors  west  of 
Dearborn  on  the  south  side  of  Lake,  purchased,  I 
believe,  by  Judge  Hugh  T.  Dickey.  Slowly  upon 
rollers,  with  becoming  dignity,  we  took  the  middle 
of  the  road  and  Tupper  placed  us  in  good  shape  in 
a  growing  business  district. 

Next  door  west  of  us  was  Elmer  Tyler,  merchant 
tailor.  Our  neighbor  on  the  east,  F.  A.  Howe,  J.  P. 
dispensed  even-handed  justice,  weighing  out  fines 
and  punishments  while  you  waited.  Cyrus  P.  Albee 
kept  Funk's  market  on  the  corner,  giving  place  in 
time  to  Frink  and  Walker,  successors  to  Frink  and 
Bingham's  Western  Stage  Office,  where  they  booked 
uneasy  mortals  to  a  few  points  in  the  northwest,  and 
where  others,  uneasier,  crawled  out  of  the  mud- 
encased  arks  after  fasting  forty  days  and  forty  nights 
in  the  woods  of  Michigan  and  the  sloughs  of  Indiana, 


EARLY  CHICAGO 

and  being  shaken  up  on  the  corduroys  like  dice  in  a 
box. 

Frink's  barn  was  on  the  west  side  of  Wabash  avenue, 
north  of  Randolph,  and  his  residence  was  about  half 
a  block  east  of  the  barn.  His  home  lot  was  used  as 
a  sort  of  asylum  for  the  superannuated  stages  which 
were  crowded  out  of  the  select  company  of  more 
recent  favorites.  Here  were  stranded  hulks  which 
hailed  originally  from  various  eastern  points.  There 
all  shapes,  sizes  and  conditions,  from  the  "regular" 
to  the  lumber  wagon  "overflow."  Some  were  with 
leather  tops  as  full  of  holes  as  a  country  road  sign 
of  snipe  shot.  Others  were  as  bare  of  coverings  as 
the  trees  in  whiter.  All  were  in  various  stages  of 
dissolution. 

The  original  Tremont  House  was  still  doing  busi- 
ness directly  opposite  at  the  time  of  our  moving  there, 
but  went  up  in  flames  one  Saturday  night,  October 
26,  1839.  The  fire  originated  in  the  hardware  store 
of  David  Hatch,  on  Lake  street,  about  the  middle 
of  the  block  west  of  the  hotel,  and  extended  west  to 
B.  W.  Raymond's  three  story  brick  store  near  the 
corner  of  Clark  where  it  stopped.  It  burned  every- 
thing east  to  Dearborn,  upon  which  street  it  destroyed 
all  the  stores  north  to  Sawyer's  drug  store,  consum- 
ing with  the  Tremont,  17  buildings,  all  frame.  It 
was  "The  Big  Fire"  from  which  events -dated  for  10 
years,  as  they  do  now  from  "The  Big  Fire"  32  years 
later. 

Carpets,  blankets  and  quilts  were  spread  over  the 
front  of  our  house  and  were  kept  sufficiently  wet  to 


THE  NEW  YORK  MILLINERY  77 

prevent  it  being  ignited,  thanks  to  the  fire  buckets  and 
the  line  of  men  that  passed  them  to  the  river  and 
back.  The  destruction  of  the  buildings  upon  the 
south  side  of  the  street  being  imminent,  a  few  of  our 
friends  went  to  work  and  made  everything  ready  for 
our  flight  should  it  be  necessary. 

Mother's  back  counters  consisted  of  large  packing 
boxes  with  a  strong  rope  in  each  end  expressly  de- 
signed to  be  filled  with  silks,  ribbons,  etc.,  in  the  event 
of  fire.  Being  neatly  covered  with  some  kind  of  white 
goods,  with  glass  cases  on  top,  they  were  not  objec- 
tionable in  those  primitive  times,  while  their  utility 
was  shown  on  this  occasion,  as  they  were  carefully 
filled  with  the  most  valuable  goods  ready  for  removal, 
though  nothing  was  really  taken  out  of  the  house. 
The  antediluvian  bedsteads,  however,  were  taken 
down,  because  it  was  an  operation  requiring  no  little 
time.  Fortunately  we  were  saved  the  necessity  of 
moving. 

My  people  finally  requiring  better  accommodations 
for  their  increasing  trade  than  the  old  location,  built 
a  two  story  frame  upon  a  lot  hired  of  Philip  F.  W. 
Peck,  at  what  is  now  known  as  163  Lake  street,  which 
they  thenceforth  occupied  while  continuing  in  busi- 
ness, removing  the  old  building  to  their  Randolph 
street  lot. 

Our  homes  were  not  so  comfortable  in  early  times 
as  they  are  to-day.  Almost  every  one  enduring 
hardships  that  seem  incredible  to  those  who  are  sur- 
rounded with  all  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  the 
present.  The  west  side  of  a  large  wood  shed  where  I 


78  EARLY  CHICAGO 

sawed,  split  and  piled  the  wood  was  entirely  open, 
and  above  it  was  our  bed  chamber,  which  no  stove 
could  have  warmed  had  we  attempted  it.  The  open- 
ings in  the  floor  were  not  large  enough  to  admit  the 
wood,  but  ample  to  receive  the  howling  blasts  of  old 
Boreas.  To  add  to  our  discomfort,  the  stairs  landed  in 
the  kitchen,  and  the  presiding  genius  of  the  wash  tubs 
took  care  that  no  door  should  arrest  the  upward 
flight  of  that  subtle  power  which  moves  the  world 
to-day,  and  which  then  spent  itself  in  marvelous 
creations  on  the  frozen  window  panes  and  ceilings 
of  our  sleeping  apartment.  These  unapproachable 
etchings  and  scintillated  frost  work  my  brother  and  I 
enjoyed  from  the  depths  of  our  crackling,  frozen 
comforters.  But  I  never  slept  cold  nor  caught  cold 
from  such  discomforts  and  exposure.  That  cold 
bed  room  was  something  of  a  domestic  necessity,  and 
did  not  stand  for  the  choice  of  my  parents,  than 
whom  none  ever  lived  more  tender  and  loving.  The 
rest  of  the  rooms  were  well  supplied  with  heaters 
which  cost  nothing  to  use  except  the  labor  of  cutting, 
hauling  and  sawing  the  wood. 

During  this  time  father  had  gone  into  the  market 
business  on  Clark  street,  between  South  Water  and 
Lake.  But  he  did  not  remain  in  it  long  as  mother's 
growing  trade  required  his  services  in  taking  general 
supervision  of  the  store,  checking  in  goods,  making 
out  bills,  packing,  shipping,  bookkeeping,  and  at- 
tending to  other  details  not  connected  too  intimately 
with  bonnets.  When  the  busy  season  was  over,  he 


THE  NEW  YORK  MILLINERY  79 

spent  his  spare  time  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  farm  at 
Gale  wood. 

We  found  the  neighborhood  at  165,  vastly  different 
from  what  it  was  when  on  the  same  block  in  1835. 
On  the  corner  opposite  was  Jerome  Beecher,  an  arrival 
of  1838,  who  was  in  the  boot,  shoe  and  leather  busi- 
ness. Beecher  and  his  wide  awake  nephew  were 
seldom  too  busy  to  have  a  little  innocent  pastime. 
When  a  Hoosier  came  sauntering  down  the  street, 
with  a  tar  bucket  in  hand,  one  of  the  obliging  Beechers 
would  ask  if  he  was  looking  for  tar,  (which  was  used 
for  lubricating  axles),  and  usually  receiving  an  affirm- 
ative answer,  would  send  him  to  the  New  York 
Millinery  with  the  explicit  injunction:  "You'll  find  a 
clerk  in  the  store,  a  fellow  with  black,  curly  hair,  who 
hates  to  soil  his  fingers  with  tar,  and  if  you  ask  him 
he  will  tell  you  they  don't  keep  it.  But  don't  you 
mind  him.  If  he  says  anything  just  pretend  that 
you  don't  hear  him  and  go  right  along  through  the 
next  room,  where  there  are  a  few  girls  sewing,  but 
they  won't  hurt  you,  go  right  by  them,  and  you  will 
reach  a  door  leading  to  the  yard  where  they  make  tar, 
and  it  is  the  only  place  in  town  where  you  can  get  it 
cheap. " 

The  poor  fellow  would  be  frightened  half  to  death 
by  the  way  father  would  yell  at  him,  but  when  he 
passed  stoutly  on  and  at  length  stood  in  the  sewing 
room,  and  suddenly  found  more  girls  around  him 
than  he  had  ever  seen  together  in  his  life  before,  his 
heart  would  utterly  fail  him,  and  he  would  shamble 


80  EARLY  CHICAGO 

out  to  the  street,  with  a  "  Dod  rot  them  air  fellers. " 
If  the  Beechers  missed  the  chance,  Charley  Peck 
and  Nelson  Buchanan,  the  harness  makers  next  door 
would  catch  them.  Indeed  the  Hoosiers  called  for 
the  goods  we  kept  less  frequently  than  for  ox-yokes, 
tar,  gingerbread  and  molasses,  in  fact,  they  never 
had  any  use  for  New  York  Millinery.  A  sun  bonnet  of 
their  one  make  was  the  only  head  gear  their  "Wimen 
folks"  required  in  summer,  with  a  home  made  hood 
for  winter. 

Four  doors  above  us  was  a  two  storied  frame,  the 
upper  front  bearing  the  legend: 


SADDLE  &  HARNESS  MANUFACTORY. 

CASH  PAID  FOR  HIDES. 

S.  B.  COBB. 


In  front  on  a  post  was  a  white  horse  in  a  full  canter, 
headed  for  the  prairie. 

Next  to  Cobb  was  Arthur  G.  Burley,  engaged  in 
the  crockery  business  since  1837;  he  came  here  about 
the  time  we  did.  Our  next  door  neighbor  on  the 
west  was  Alexander  White,  the  paint  and  oil  dealer. 

Then  came  Mrs.  Barrows  with  her  home  made 
candies  and  ice  cream.  Directly  opposite  were  the 
dry  goods  stores  of  Clark  &  Haines,  and  Rosenfield 
&  Rosenburg.  The  two  R's  were  men  that  any  nation 
or  sect  might  well  be  proud  of. 

At  152  Lake  street  was  John  W.  Hooker,  a  man  I 
never  think  of  without  a  flush  of  anger.  He  was  a 


THE  NEW  YORK  MILLINERY  81 

dealer  in  seeds,  agricultural  implements,  etc.  As  he 
raised  no  seeds  I  logically  concluded  he  could  not  sell 
unless  he  first  purchased.  Whether  or  not  I  sur- 
mised that  he  was  short  on  beans,  and  would  be 
obliged  to  buy  what  I  had  to  offer  on  a  particular 
evening,  I  have  forgotten.  I  think  I  must  have 
believed  he  was  greatly  in  need  of  them  or  I  should 
not  have  had  the  effrontery  to  offer  him  a  basketful 
with  some  fertilizer  thrown  in.  To  protect  our  hens 
from  wolves  and  other  prowlers  of  the  night,  they 
were  permitted  to  roost  in  the  barn  with  the  beans. 
Hooker  was  so  particular  as  to  require  a  separation 
of  the  contents  of  my  basket,  which  caused  his  loafing 
listeners  to  laugh  at  my  discomfiture.  Whereupon  I 
told  him  that  he  could  not  have  my  wares  at  any 
price.  That  one  opportunity  was  his  last. 

Still  further  east,  at  104,  Thomas  Whitlock  had  a 
shoe  store.  At  Wilson's  school  his  daughter,  Cornelia 
and  James  Hatch,  for  many  years  in  the  hardware 
business  on  State  street,  became  acquainted,  and 
in  the  course  of  time  they  were  married.  Her  sister, 
Antoinette,  was  the  second  wife  of  L.  C.  P.  Freer, 
the  Judge  marrying  her  late  in  life  under  romantic 
circumstances. 

An  elder  sister  kept  boarders  in  a  house  owned  by 
Mr.  Freer,  who  called  the  first  of  each  month  for  his 
rent.  Dropping  in  once  out  of  the  regular  season, 
he  found  Antoinette  busily  engaged  in  sweeping.  She 
remarked,  "I  suppose  you  want  to  see  my  sister? 
I  will  speak  to  her."  "No,  you  need  not  call  her.  I 
want  you."  This  was  a  very  embarrassing  state- 


82  EARLY  CHICAGO 

ment  to  the  fair  lady  tinder  the  circumstances,  until 
the  Judge  assured  her  of  the  momentous  object  of 
his  visit,  which  culminated  in  a  happy  union.  The 
wealthy  suitor  settled  on  the  fortunate  bride  a  sum 
sufficient  to  enable  her  to  share  a  portion  of  her 
wealth  with  some  of  her  less  prosperous  relatives, 
thus  rendering  them  and  everybody  else  happy. 

Nathan  M.  Freer,  a  son  of  the  venerable  attorney, 
has  lived  at  Oak  Park  with  his  sister,  Mrs.  C.  A. 
Sharpe,  for  a  number  of  years,  where  he  endears 
himself  to  all  by  the  beautiful  spirit  of  helpfulness 
to  which  he  constantly,  in  an  unostentatious  manner, 
gives  expression.  I  know  of  no  person  in  all  my 
acquaintance  who  derives  so  much  pure  happiness 
in  the  performance  of  kindly  deeds  as  he  does.  His 
heart  goes  ever  with  his  gift. 

Mr.  Freer  is  known  by  few.  So  modest  and  retir- 
ing is  his  nature  that  he  reveals  the  loveliness  of  his 
inner  life  only  to  those  intimates  who  comprehend 
its  beauty  and  sympathize  with  the  pure  spirit  that 
dwells  within  him.  As  I  write  I  fear  our  friend  will 
never  hear  the  robins  sing  again  in  spring,  nestling 
in  the  tree  tops  of  his  home,  nor  from  his  study  win- 
dow watch  the  gradual  resurrection  of  another  sum- 
mer. But  we  feel  that  the  beauty  of  that  summer 
which  he  has  given  to  so  many,  the  heaven  he  has 
brought  to  earth  in  his  daily  walks  and  the  sunshine 
he  has  cast  in  the  paths  of  all,  have  fitted  him  more 
fully  for  that  higher  service  to  which  he  may  soon  be 
called. 

He  was  called  at  Pasadena,  Friday,  January  4, 1901. 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE   SPORTS   AND     TOILS    OF   MY   CHILDHOOD 

I  think  I  was  entirely  normal  as  a  boy  in  the  en- 
joyment of  sports  and  vigorous  out  door  pastimes, 
but  I  distinctly  remember  that  I  always  had  a  desire 
for  work.  I  especially  recall  the  zeal,  pride  and 
pleasure  I  took  in  sawing  a  great  amount  of  wood 
from  my  father's  timberland  on  the  North  Branch, 
which  we  used  in  the  stoves.  I  spent  at  the  sawbuck 
a  great  many  hours  which,  if  I  had  possessed  a  taste 
for  study,  I  should  have  otherwise  employed.  For 
this  work  my  father  paid  me  the  same  as  he  would 
have  given  anyone  else — $1.25  per  cord,  to  saw, 
split  and  pile.  At  one  time  I  had  fourteen  cords 
ready  for  the  hungry  stoves.  My  mother  protested 
against  my  doing  this  hard  work;  but  I  think  such 
self-imposed  toil  and  my  inclination  for  out  of  door 
sports,  gave  me  a  vigorous  constitution,  which  through 
life  has  enabled  me  to  accomplish  much  more  than  I 
could  have  done  had  I  spent  my  time  in  less  vigorous 
occupation.  Besides,  I  was  stimulated  to  work  by 
an  ambition  to  purchase  from  my  father  a  fine  sword 
he  used  to  wear  when  First  Lieutenant  of  the  Inde- 
pendent Boston  Fusiliers,  to  which  company  I  see 
by  his  certificate  he  was  admited  in  1822.  I  ulti- 
mately accomplished  my  object  and  purchased  the 

83 


84  EARLY  CHICAGO 

beautiful  souvenir,  which  father  would  have  cheerfully 
given  me  had  I  not  been  determined  to  "win  my 
sword."  I  have  since  many  times  regretted  that  I 
consented  to  sell  it,  and  that  father  permitted  me  to 
dispose  of  it  to  Lieutenant  Alfred  Chapin,  of  Capt. 
Bell 's  company  of  Mexican  Volunteers.  It  required  a 
goodly  amount  of  sawbuck  exercise  to  pay  for  that 
sword. 

At  the  same  time  that  I  was  doing  so  much  wood- 
sawing,  for  several  years  I  took  care  of  and  milked 
one  or  two  cows.  In  summer  they  were  taken  to 
pasture  by  Jesse  Churchill,  a  faithful  old  man  who 
drove  most  of  the  south  side  cows  to  the  west  side 
prairies.  At  first  there  was  plenty  of  good  grazing 
far  east  of  Western  avenue,  which  for  many  years 
was  the  city  limit  on  the  west,  after  Halsted  street 
had  surrendered  that  honor;  and  the  vicinity  of  the 
stone  quarry  on  that  avenue  was  the  center  of  the 
green  pastures  for  a  number  of  years,  until  larger 
herds  obliged  the  herder  to  go  still  further  from  the 
town.  Occasionally  the  cows  would  elude  the  vigi- 
lance of  Mr.  Churchill,  which  gave  me  an  excuse  to 
exchange  school  for  the  saddle.  Sometimes  it  took 
me  a  whole  week  to  recover  the  cattle. 

The  old  gentleman  was  as  regular  as  clock  work; 
sunshine  or  storm  made  no  difference.  He  and  his 
diminutive  horse  and  faithful  dog  would  perform 
their  daily  tasks  throughout  the  season.  I  was  so 
accustomed  to  see  the  old  drover  on  horseback  that 
it  almost  seemed  to  me  that  he  could  not  stand  on 
his  own  legs,  but  had  to  be  astride  that  particular 


MY  CHILDHOOD  85 

roan  horse,  which  had  a  white  nose,  and  a  whisking 
tail  that  was  worn  as  thin,  with  its  long  contest  with 
gnats,  mosquitoes  and  monstrous  horse  flies  of  the 
prairies,  as  the  long,  white  locks  of  its  old  master, 
who  appeared  to  be  as  much  a  part  of  the  old  roan 
as  the  fly-repelling  tail  itself.  I  could  never  dis- 
associate the  horse  from  the  horseman.  It  seemed 
as  if  they  were  the  component  parts  of  an  indivisible 
whole.  Should  the  herdsman  die,  which  I  could  not 
conceive  to  be  possible,  or  should  his  horse,  which  I 
thought  more  likely,  I  could  not  help  thinking  that 
they  would  all  have  to  be  buried  together,  and  then, 
like  the  old  time  brave, — 
"His  faithful  dog  .should  bear  him  company." 
But,  before  this  time,  father  had  kept  a  cow,  as  was 
the  custom  in  those  days,  which  strolled  with  her 
companions  on  the  south  prairie  anywhere  south  of 
Monroe  street,  with  no  one  to  look  after  her.  Wolves 
had  ceased  to  be  a  terror,  in  fact,  Fernando  Jones 
says  he  killed  the  last  " close  in"  in  1836,  but  it  was 
always  an  open  question  whether  the  overflowing 
mash  pail,  which  she  knew  awaited  her  return  would 
lure  "Old  Suke"  from  the  pasture  or  not.  I  was 
generally  interested  in  some  out  door  game  at  what 
time  she  was  due,  and  often  would  I,  with  fond  hope 
of  her  return,  salve  my  boyish  conscience  for  not 
going  after  her  until  it  was  so  late  that  darkness  had 
settled  over  the  rank  rosinweed,  leaving  no  alterna- 
tive but  to  swash  around,  wet  to  the  skin,  in  the  tall, 
rank,  bedewed  grass.  There  was  but  little  hope  of 
finding  her  unless  her  tinkling  bell  should  betray  her 


86  EARLY  CHICAGO 

presence,  perhaps  a  few  feet  from  me,  as  she  fought 
fHes  or  mosquitoes.  But  it  was  easier  to  find  her  if 
she  had  got  into  the  tall  trees  that  extended  west  of 
Wells  street  to  the  South  Branch,  and  as  far  as  Wild- 
er's  woods,  for  there  the  grass  was  shorter.  You 
may  imagine  that  I  felt  it  quite  a  relief  when  a  new 
arrangement  was  made,  and  our  useful  cows  were 
herded  by  so  reliable  a  person  as  my  old  friend,  the 
modern  and  improved  Centaur. 

My  cow  herding  was  not,  however,  confined  to  the 
city.  I  always  delighted  to  spend  my  holidays  on 
the  farm.  There  was  frequently  a  shortage  of  water 
for  the  cattle  in  summer,  and  I  used  to  take  the  herd 
to  the  east  of  the  house,  where  there  were  sloughs. 
Sometimes,  of  a  sudden,  they  would  separate  into 
small  bands  as  if  directed  by  a  military  strategist 
and  make  for  the  Des  Plaines  river  to  the  westward. 
Flanking  the  field  north  and  south,  they  would  en- 
deavor to  elude  me,  which  required  hard  riding  to 
drive  them  to  the  western  sloughs,  have  them  slake 
their  thirst  there,  and  go  quietly  to  grazing  again. 
Some  days  I  had  a  relay  of  horses,  and  was  in  the 
saddle  five  or  six  hours  at  a  time.  It  was  part  of  my 
pleasure  to  issue  orders  to  imaginary  soldiers  of  my 
own,  in  a  loud,  imperious  voice,  commanding  them 
to  perform  certain  evolutions  in  order  to  bring  the 
herd  where  I  wished  it.  Once,  when  the  cattle 
started  east  instead  of  west,  I  headed  them  off  at 
Whisky  Point,  shouting  in  my  usual  way;  and  I  was 
greatly  surprised  when,  at  dinner  time,  brother  Will, 
who  had  been  watching  my  maneuvering  from  the 


MY  CHILDHOOD  87 

roof  of  the  root  house  cellar,  told  me  that  he  had 
heard  what  I  said.  As  I  was  a  mile  away  at  the 
time,  I  would  not  believe  it  until  he  satisfied  me  by 
repeating  the  orders  I  had  given. 

My  time  at  the  farm  was  not  spent  exclusively  in 
horseback  riding,  I  made  myself  useful  in  many 
other  ways.  It  has  always  pleased  me  to  remember 
that  one  fall  I  picked  up  and  put  into  large  baskets, 
750  bushels  of  potatoes  in  ten  days.  Two  wagon 
loads  a  day!  The  man  employed  by  father  to  take 
charge  of  the  place  was  a  powerful  "York  State" 
man,  who  encouraged  me  by  saying,  "Scratch  it,  Ed. 
Never  mind  your  bleeding  fingers  and  hang  nails,  I'll 
sing  you  some  good  songs  and  tell  you  a  fine  Indian 
story  after  supper."  After  supper  he  would  milk 
the  cows,  look  after  the  stock,  take  the  second  wagon- 
load  of  potatoes  down  into  the  root  house  cellar,  in 
a  one  and  a  half  bushel  basket,  on  his  shoulders, 
while  I  held  the  lantern;  and  by  the  time  his  chores 
were  done,  music  had  no  charms  for  me,  and  the 
Indians  were  welcome  to  my  scalp  if  they  wanted  it, 
providing  they  granted  me  the  privilege  of  first 
placing  it  upon  my  pillow.  Potatoes  seldom  yielded 
as  they  did  that  fall.  Sometimes  Mitchell*  would 
throw  out  nearly  a  pailful  from  a  single  hill  with 
two  or  three  turns  of  his  potato  hook. 

But  the  best  crop  the  farm  ever  raised  was  Albert 
G.  Lane,  the  able  head  of  our  schools  for  so  many 
years.  His  father  was  a  carpenter,  who  tried  farming 
for  a  brief  period  and  could  have  followed  it  indef- 
inately  at  Gale  wood,  had  he  so  desired,  as  father 


88 

found  the  experiment  to  be  more  satisfactory  to  him 
than  it  was  to  the  parents  of  our  popular  educator. 

Mr.  Lane  impoverished  himself  to  restore  school 
funds  which  were  lost  by  a  bank  failure.  This  con- 
duct placed  him  upon  a  high  plane  in  the  estimation  of 
the  community,  who  appreciated  the  long  and  heroic 
struggle  which  he  grandly  made  to  replace  every 
cent,  when  the  public  verdict  was  that  he  was  not 
responsible  for  the  loss,  and  that  the  County  had  no 
legal  claim  on  him. 

Occasionally,  we  had  the  disagreeable  task  of 
fighting  prairie  fires  in  the  spring  and  fall,  which 
meant  heat,  smoke  and  hard  work,  as  any  one  will 
testify  who  ever  tried  it.  The  year  before  father 
entered  the  land  the  fire  had  gone  through  the  grove 
doing  great  damage,  and  it  was  his  earnest  desire  to 
preserve  it  in  the  future,  which  was  done;  and  I 
remember  at  one  tune  that  I  helped  from  noon  until 
sunrise  the  next  morning  to  do  it,  setting  back-fires 
and  beating  the  flames  with  shovels  almost  con- 
stantly. 

One  thing  which  made  the  farm  so  fascinating  to 
me  was  my  love  of  hunting.  I  was  always  enamored 
of  a  gun.  When  able  to  carry  a  fowling  piece  I 
scorned  all  other  sports,  if  the  season  for  game  en- 
couraged me  to  hunt.  It  seems  strange,  even  to  me, 
when  I  think  of  having  shot  ducks  in  the  Chicago 
river  and  hi  both  of  its  branches,  plover  and  snipe 
west  of  Wells  street,  south  of  Chicago  avenue,  pigeons 
in  Cottage  Grove  and  the  Northside  groves,  as  well 
as  in  the  tall  elms  of  the  south  side  west  of  Wells  street 


MY  CHILDHOOD  89 

and  south  of  Madison,  following  along  which  I  would 
strike  into  Wilder's  and  McGalshen's  to  shoot  quails 
as  well  as  pigeons.  I  have  shot  prairie  chickens  east 
of  Western  avenue. 

I  never  shot,  but  have  seen  many  wild  deer  in  the 
city  limits,  and  Ex-Alderman  J.  M.  Hannahs  tells  us 
that  he  saw  them  in  the  vicinity  of  Halsted  and 
Adams  streets  as  late  as  1838.  I  have  never  seen 
any  bears  or  foxes  within  ten  miles  of  the  Court 
House.  The  last  bear  killed  in  our  woods  was  a  400 
pound  specimen,  shot  by  John  Sweeney  on  October 
6th,  1834,  in  a  tree  about  where  LaSalle  and  Adams 
streets  now  intersect,  about  a  year  after  Alexander 
Beaubien  shot  his.  Deer  and  raccoons  were  often 
met  with  in  the  woods;  the  former  sometimes  on  the 
prairie,  while  on  the  branches  of  the  river  they  were 
frequently  found;  and  every  slough  that  made  any 
pretense  to  respectability,  had  at  least  one  good 
sized  musk-rat  house,  projecting  well  above  the 
water. 

By  the  foregoing  it  will  appear  that  Chicago,  even 
at  this  period  of  our  narrative,  was  not  only  in,  but 
formed  part  of  that  vast  wilderness  which  radiated 
in  every  direction  from  it. 

That  the  "Red  Ruler  of  the  Shade"  did  not  anni- 
hilate all  the  fur-bearing  denizens  of  the  forest  and 
prairie,  was  shown  by  the  result  of  frequent  hunts  and 
round-ups.  In  the  fall  before  our  arrival,  a  numer- 
ous party  on  horseback,  with  dogs  and  guns,  started 
several  miles  up  the  North  Branch.  They  spread 
out  towards  the  lake,  and  with  shouts  and  shooting 


90  EARLY  CHICAGO 

drove  the  game  in  front  of  them  as  they  galloped 
towards  the  town.  A  number  of  deer  and  wolves 
were  slain,  but  some  of  them  swam  the  main  river, 
and  rushing  through  the  village,  made  their  escape  in 
the  South  Branch  groves.  Another  and  more  success- 
ful party  started  south  and  managed  to  kill  one  bear 
and  forty  wolves  by  the  time  they  reached  the  prairie, 
south  of  Bridgeport. 

That  wolf  hunting  continued  for  a  number  of  years 
to  be  one  of  the  favorite  pastimes  of  our  people  is 
evident  from  the  frequency  with  which  such  notices 
as  the  following  appeared  in  the  newspapers: 

WOLF  HUNT. 

We  are  requested  to  call  the  attention  of  the  public 
to  the  Wolf  Hunt,  which  will  take  place  on  the  first 
day  of  the  ensuing  month.  Lilly  Cash  Grove,  being 
the  centre.  Nov.  27,  1841. 

NOTICE  TO  SPORTSMEN. 

A  Wolf  Hunt  is  expected  to  take  place  on  Tuesday, 
February  2,  1841  (weather  permitting),  on  horseback. 
Company  to  meet  at  the  City  Hotel  at  a  quarter  before 
9  A.  M.,  there  to  receive  coursing  orders  from  Messrs. 
H.  B.  Clarke,  A.  Calhoun,  George  Chacksfield,  H. 
Bond,  etc.  A  good  turn  out  is  expected.  Jan.  30, 
1841. 

One  bright  Sunday  morning,  about  three  years  after 
this,  Alexander  Beaubien  and  Joe  Robinson — sons 
of  our  earliest  pioneers — aided  by  their  friends,  chased, 
with  deafening  shouts  and  yelping  dogs,  a  large  gray 


ALEXANDER  BBAUBIEN  ON  HIS  SOTH  BIRTHDAY.     HE  WAS  BORN  JANU- 
ARY 2<S.    lS22.    WHEN   KlNZIF.'S  WAS  THE  ONLY   WHITE  FAMILY 
IN  THE   PLACE   BESIDES   HIS   FATHER'S. 


0* 


at 


MY  CHILDHOOD  91 

wolf.  It  ran  south  through  the  Des  Plaines  river 
timber  about  four  miles  to  the  vicinity  of  Lake  street, 
thence  east  to  the  Ridge,  which  was  followed  north 
to  father's  place,  where  I  hastily  mounted  a  horse 
and  joined  with  a  fresh  dog  in  the  exciting  chase. 
We  soon  had  the  brute  at  bay  on  the  ice,  where  he 
was  finally  shot,  and  I,  as  a  boy,  was  permitted  to 
carry  the  "brush"  back  home  with  me  in  triumph. 

In  replying  to  my  inquiry,  whether  he  still  re- 
membered that  circumstance,  Alexander  Beaubien 
wrote,  "Yes,  I  recollect  it  well,  the  chase  after  that 
gray  wolf.  I  cut  off  the  tip  of  his  tail  and  gave  it  to 
you.  The  rest  of  the  boys  were  Philip  Beaubien, 
Harry  Vannatta,  Joe  Curtis,  Joe  Robinson  and  Jim 
Bowman." 

Alexander  tells  me  that  he  was  hunting,  in  1833, 
with  an  Indian  boy  who  was  armed  with  a  bow  and 
arrows,  while  he  had  a  gun;  and  when  near  where 
Franklin  and  Jackson  streets  now  are  a  black  bear 
came  out  of  the  heavy  timber,  which  then  extended 
on  the  east  side  of  the  South  Branch  about  a  mile 
and  a  half.  Upon  seeing  the  bear  the  Indian  boy 
ran,  but  Aleck,  though  he  was  but  11  years  old,  stood 
his  ground  and  shot  Bruin  and  killed  him.  Aleck 
writes,  "That  same  day  I  found  a  dead  man  in  a 
slough  near  the  corner  of  Jackson  and  State  streets. 
He  lay  with  his  face  downwards ;  had  been  dead  some 
days.  Father  took  charge  of  the  body,  and  had  it 
buried  in  a  rough  board  coffin  on  the  lake  shore  near 
Madison  street.  Nothing  was  on  him  to  indicate 


92  EARLY  CHICAGO 

who  he  was,  and  we  never  learned.  How  many 
such  silent  tragedies  the  wilderness  held  in  those 
days."* 

During  many  years  after  father  owned  the  farm, 
I  saw  deer,  and  more  frequently  prairie  wolves,  at 
Galewood — within  the  present  city  limits — where  the 
latter  made  the  nights  hideous  with  their  peculiar 
vocal  performances.  The  howl  of  the  prairie  wolf  is 
indescribable.  You  would  think  that  it  would  require 
a  large  pack  to  make  so  great  a  noise,  pitched  in  so 
many  different  keys  as  a  single  wolf  can  give  expres- 
sion to.  As  late  as  the  early  sixties,  after  making  my 
home  at  Oak  Park,  I  noticed  from  the  car  window, 
on  a  number  of  successive  afternoons,  a  wolf  to  the 
south  of  the  track  where  Austin  now  stands,  watching, 
with  wondering  eye,  the  rapidly  moving  train.  The 
gaunt,  shaggy  fellow  seemed  the  sole  survivor  of  his 
kind,  spared  as  if  to  complete  an  historic  picture 
amidst  the  dying  glories  of  that  brightly  setting  sun, 
where,  grouped  with  the  softened  shadows  of  the 
slowly-fading  yesterdays  were  yet  blended  with  the 

*It  was  but  a  short  time  after  young  Aleck  shot  the  bear  that  his  more 
thrilling  experience  occurred,  which  was  recorded  in  the  Chicago  Evening 

"  iwk 


Journal  of  Dec.  31st,  1901.  It  was  about  two  years  after  the  Black  Hawk 
war.  in  1833  or  1834,  that  one  of  Black  Hawk's  warriors  rode  into  town, 
and  Aleck  pointed  him  out  to  his  uncle,  Joseph  Lafromboise,  who  cut  the 
intruder  across  the  shoulders  with  his  whip  and  ordered  him  to  go  back 
to  his  Reservation.  ''Two  days  afterwards,"  says  Aleck,  "I  took  my 
double-barrelled  flint-lock  gun,  loaded  it  with  bird  shot,  and  went  along  the 
rushes  on  the  west  bank  of  the  river  to  shoot  ducks.  As  1  was  going  softly 
through  the  thicket  suddenly  there  in  front  of  me  stood  this  hostile  Indian, 
with  a  bridle  in  his  hand.  He  had  probably  lost  his  horse  and  was  looking 
for  it. 

As  soon  as  he  saw  me  ho  drew  his  knife  and  said  to  me  in  the  Indian 
tongue,  "1  am  going  to  kill  you."  He  made  moti9ns  ae  if  to  scalp  me. 

I  lifted  my  gun  and  fired  both  barrels  into  hi*  face.  He  dropped.  I 
ran  and  did  not  know  that  I  had  killed  him  until  two  days  after  when  his 
body  was  found.  I  then  informed  my  mother,  who,  knowing  the  revengeful 
•pirit  of  the  Indians,  insisted  I  should  never  reveal  the  fact  to  anyone  and 
I  have  kept  it  a  profound  secret  until  to-day. 


MY  CHILDHOOD  93 

ever  shifting  colors  of  its  decline,  the  golden  promise 
of  the  richly  blest  to-morrows'. 

The  rod  and  line  in  those  days  were  nearly  as  at- 
tractive to  me  as  my  gun.  Perch,  bass  and  sunfish 
we  were  wont  to  catch  from  the  banks  of  the  river 
and  its  two  tributaries. 

I  have  also,  with  John  and  Oliver  Fordham,  helped 
their  father  to  draw  the  loaded  seine  along  the  river 
branches.  Later,  when  other  fish  were  scarce,  bull- 
heads were  abundant,  especially  at  Reynold's  pack- 
ing house  on  the  South  Branch. 

I  recollect  also  McGlashan's  woods  on  the  South 
Branch,  and  I  am  reminded  of  the  pleasant  manner  in 
which  a  number  of  us  boys  were  treated  there  by  Mrs. 
John  McGlashan  one  summer.  It  was  our  custom 
after  our  Saturday  morning  school  session  to  spend 
the  afternoon  in  the  grove.  Once,  upon  going  to  the 
house  for  a  drink,  Mrs.  McGlashan  gave  us  a  regular 
prize  winner  of  a  melon,  and  said,  "I  have  noticed 
you  boys  out  here  frequently  and  you  seem  to  have 
a  happy  time,  without  trespassing,  so  as  long  as  the 
melons  last,  come  to  the  house  and  I  will  be  pleased 
to  furnish  you  with  all  you  can  eat."  She  was  our 
sylvan  deity  ever  after.  This  was  the  young  lady, 
who,  as  Miss  Jessie  Guthrie,  a  bonnie  Scotch  lassie, 
direct  from  the  braes  of  Scotia,  landed  from  the 
schooner  Julia  Palmer,  with  Joseph  Gray,  July  16th, 
1836.  She  lived  to  the  good  old  age  of  86,  passing 
away  December  24,  1898. 

Fruit  was  scarce  in  early  days,  being  confined  to 
the  wild  varieties  and  to  melons;  the  latter  grew  in 


94  EARLY  CHICAGO 

great  profusion  on  new  ground.  Father  raised  many 
on  the  farm,  and  frequently  treated  the  school  chil- 
dren to  a  load  at  a  time.  Almost  every  season  a  wagon 
load  of  us  little  folks  would  go  to  the  farm,  pick  all 
the  strawberries  we  could  master,  get  our  fill  of  bread 
and  milk  with  the  sweet  berries,  and  take  a  goodly 
quantity  of  the  latter  home  with  us. 

For  peaches  and  apples  we  depended  upon  our 
Hoosier  friends.  The  Wabash  was  our  Egypt.  Not 
only  did  we  derive  from  there  our  supplies  of  smoked 
hams,  bacon,  poultry,  butter,  lard,  etc.,  but  also  our 
dried  and  green  fruit,  which  was  brought  to  us  prin- 
cipally in  the  old  fashioned,  huge,  Pennsylvania 
mountain  wagons,  drawn  by  8  or  10  yoke  of  oxen, 
or  five  or  six  span  of  horses.  Those  "  Prairie  Schoon- 
ers" were  as  attractive  to  a  kid  as  a  mud  puddle  to 
a  boy  in  his  Sunday  clothes.  It  is  true  the  teachers 
did  not  dismiss  school  on  their  arrival,  as  was  their 
wont  when  the  "  Look  out "  announced  the  coming  of 
a  steamboat;  but  as  they  moved  by  the  school  house, 
loaded  with  peaches  and  apples  they  were  followed 
by  longing  eyes  and  frequently  by  truant  feet. 

Moses  certainly  lived  before  the  prairie  schooner 
was  invented  to  "tote"  fruit  to  market,  for  he  could 
never  have  made  a  boy  believe  that  the  commandment, 
"Thou  shalt  not  steal,"  meant  that  he  couldn't, 
hook  apples.  If  ever  a  good  Sabbath  School  teacher 
flattered  herself  that  she  had  clearly  demonstrated 
to  her  sceptical  class  the  oneness  of  the  two,  the  les- 
son and  application  were  surely  forgotten  on  Monday 
morning,  if  the  goody  boy  of  the  day  before  could 


MY  CHILDHOOD  95 

only  climb  up  an  old  ark  on  the  off  side  from  its 
Hoosier  owner  and  fill  his  pockets  with  the  forbidden 
fruit  undetected.  He  did  not  fear  breaking  the  8th 
commandment  half  so  much  as  he  did  the  tingle  of 
that  long,  heavy  whip.  It  seemed  cruelty  to  animals 
to  stick  a  beautiful  apple  or  luscious  peach  on  a  prong, 
or  dangle  it  by  a  string  at  the  front  of  a  canvas  roof, 
as  a  sample  of  what  the  whole  load  was,  and  drive 
through  a  village,  with  a  big  whip  in  the  hands  of  a 
skillful  Hoosier.  Those  Wabash  fellows  had  never 
read,  "Lead  us  not  into  temptation"  or  they  would 
not  have  done  so.  Of  course  they  in  turn  deserved 
punishment  for  not  reading  the  Lord's  prayer.  If 
they  read  it  and  deliberately  disregarded  it,  they 
certainly  should  suffer.  The  justice  loving  boys  gaily 
assumed  the  responsibility  of  inflicting  the  penalty  by 
filching  the  fruit. 

But  those  guilty  men  are  gone.  Their  large  cov- 
ered wagons,  curved  at  each  end  like  a  Roman  galley, 
are  seen  in  our  streets  no  more.  The  loud  crack  of 
their  far-reaching  whips  is  lost  in  the  metropolitan 
din.  The  whoa-haw,  gee,  as  their  patient  oxen  draw 
their  heavy  loads,  is  merged  in  the  shriek  of  the  en- 
gine that  does  their  labor  for  them.  The  tinkling  of 
the  many  bells,  suspended  from  their  horses'  backs, 
is  the  charming  music  of  the  shadowy  past.  The  fires 
where  they  bivouacked  on  Michigan  avenue  have 
gone  out  forever.  The  scent  of  their  fried  bacon  and 
corn  dodgers  is  lost  in  the  evil  odors  of  a  mighty  city. 
No  more  do  we  see  them  lumbering  through  the  streets 
with  a  tar  bucket  in  one  hand  and  a  sheet  of  ginger 


96  EARLY  CHICAGO 

bread  in  the  other,  inquiring  of  the  citizens  where 
they  can  buy  tar  and  ox  yokes.  No  more  do  the 
fun  loving  citizens  send  them,  as  of  yore,  to  the  dress 
makers  and  milliners  for  the  desired  commodities. 
No  longer  do  they  congregate  at  nightfall  in  the 
auction  rooms. 

How  dimly  down  the  vista  far,  where  now  the  stately  piles 
Of  stores  and  banks  and  offices  stretch  out  for  many  miles, 
I  see  the  verdant  prairie,  broad,  the  glow  the  sunbeams  make 
Upon  its  wavering  emerald,  like  moonbeams  on  the  lake; 
I  see  the  smooth,  black  prairie  roads,  where  we  did  bare  foot  run, 
Wind  in  and  out  among  the  grass  like  serpents  in  the  sun; 
I  see  a  schooner  far  away,  by  Adams  street  at  least, 
As  caravans  on  deserts  move    with  treasures  of  the  East, 
I  see   it  seems   a  dozen  yokes  slow  lumbering  up  the  road, 
I  hear  the  crack  of  surly  whip,  the  steam  that  starts  the  load, 
Or  now,  perchance,  some  gallant  swain  a  nearhind  horse  bestrides, 
With  single  rein  to  leaders'  heads  the  numerous  span  he  guides; 
The  bells  above  their  collars  shake,  and  peal  a  pleasant  chime, 
They  softly  tread  the  prairie  soil,  their  bare  hoofs  keeping  time; 
I  see  where  Bennett's  school  poured  out  at  recess  or  at  night, 
I  see  the  boys  line  up  the  road  with  expectation  bright, 
The  "  Wabash"  captain  anchor  casts,  the  schooner  bringeth  to; 
With  fruit  that  tempted  mother  Eve,  the  Hoosier  now  tempts  you. 
I  see  the  rosy  apples  hang,  how  luscious  they  appear, 
I  see  a  crowd  of  girls  and  boys  come  trooping  at  the  rear. 
Good  boys  died  young  in  those  old  times,  the  goody  good  I  mean, 
They  were  not  apple  proof  at  least,  if  seemed  the  Hoosier  green; 
And  while  no  lad  among  them  all  could  be  induced  to  steal, 
I  see  a  sly  young  rascal  now  c-imb  up  the  off  hind  wheel 
And  while  the  dusty  owner  seems  absorbed  with  many  cares, 
"  Temptation  "  has  that  boy  forgot,  oft  mumbled  in  his  prayers. 
An  apron  is  beneath  him  held  all  ready  to  receive, 
The  hand  beneath  the  canvas  pressed  as  ready  is  to  give; 
Alas!  a  snake  is  present  here,  low  coiled  up  in  the  path, 
The  oxen  often  feel  its  sting,  when  driver  anger  hath, 
A  skillful  hand  is  on  it  laid,  obedient  to  that  call 
A  crack  is  heard  above  his  head,  a  boy  is  seen  to  fall. 


MY  CHILDHOOD  97 

But  prairie  schooners  all  have  left,  they  sail  our  streets  no  more, 
They  came  with  centres  downward  swayed,  bowed  up  both  aft 

and  fore. 

Their  sunburnt  owners,  lank  and  tall,  no  more  we  see  to-day; 
The  snap  of  their  loud-cracking  whips,  forever's  passed  away. 
And  on  the  lake  shore,  where  at  night  their  flickering  fires  glowed, 
And  care  upon  their  homely  fare  was  earnestly  bestowed, 
Where  we  the  frying  bacon  heard,  the  coarse  corn  dodgers  saw, 
Where  we  the  boiling  coffee  smelt  and  heard  the  horses  paw, 
That  spot  by  them  deserted  is,  yet  those  familiar  scenes 
By  Pioneers  will  cherished  be,  though  scarce  then  in  their  teens. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW.     OUR  NUMBERS  AND 
THE  INDIANS 

Father  frequently  used  to  drive  along  the  lake  shore, 
following  the  road  between  the  water  and  the  sand 
hills  which  were  then  partly  covered  with  a  scrubby 
growth  of  willows;  and  he  pointed  out  the  spot  where 
the  whites  fell  in  that  sanguinary  conflict  of  1812, 
which  left  a  lasting  impression  on  my  young  mind. 

It  is  easier  to  censure  than  to  better  the  actions 
of  those  whom  we  condemn.  Still  it  has  always 
seemed  to  me  that  ordinary  American  bravery, 
coupled  with  the  chivalry  that  ever  sacrifices  self 
to  shield  the  weak  and  defenseless,  would  have  been 
sufficient  to  save  the  lives  of  those  women  and  chil- 
dren who  were  slaughtered  with  all  the  revolting, 
blood  curdling  atrocities  which  mark  the  taking 
of  human  life  by  infuriated  savages.  Knowing  the 
certain  fate  that  awaited  them  should  they  leave 
their  fortifications,  it  is  marvelous  that  the  com- 
manding officer  would  not  listen -to  the  almost  unani- 
mous desire  of  the  threatened  garrison  and  others, 
to  remain  and  defend  themselves  to  the  last,  with 
a  prospect  of  being  victorious.  If  anything  more 
was  wanting  to  convince  Captain  Heald  of  the  cer- 
tainty of  destruction  did  he  desert  the  fort,  the  action 

99 


100  EARLY  CHICAGO 

of  that  noble  man,  the  friendly  Indian  chief,  Black 
Partridge,  should  have  caused  him  to  remain  and 
fight  it  out.  Entering  the  Captain's  quarters  on  the 
evening  before  the  massacre,  that  noted  chief  handed 
him  the  medal  which  had  been  presented  to  him  by 
President  Madison,  and  said,  "Father,  I  come  to 
deliver  up  to  you  the  medal  I  wear.  It  was  given 
me  by  the  Americans,  and  I  have  long  worn  it  in 
token  of  our  mutual  friendship.  But  our  young  men 
have  resolved  to  imbrue  their  hands  in  the  blood  of 
the  whites.  I  cannot  restrain  them,  and  I  will  not 
wear  a  token  of  peace  while  I  am  compelled  to  act 
as  an  enemy." 

Black  Partridge,  however,  did  not  act  as  an  enemy, 
but  as  a  sterling  friend,  in  the  terrible  scenes  so  soon 
to  take  place.  At  the  word  of  command,  the  doomed 
garrison  and  its  helpless  dependants  left  the  fort, 
while  the  shrill  fife  and  muffled  drum  played  the 
Dead  March,  soon  to  be  hushed  by  the  blood-curdling 
war  whoop,  the  rattling  of  guns  and  the  hiss  of  flying 
tomahawks.  The  burning  sands  drank  from  the 
gaping  wounds  the  life's  blood  of  the  hapless  de- 
fenders, while  in  the  shadows  of  the  shrinking  night 
the  ravenous  birds  and  beasts  of  prey  tore  the  still 
warm  flesh  from  mangled  bodies,  whose  bones  lay 
bleaching  among  the  sand  dunes,  without  the 
rite  of  sepulture,  until  troops  were  sent  to  rebuild 
the  fort  in  1816. 

There  has  been  a  great  deal  of  discussion  as  to 
whether  it  was  Black  Partridge  or  Black  Bird  that 
interviewed  Captain  Heald  on  the  night  before  the 


THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  101 

calamity.  I  am  satisfied  that  both  chiefs  were 
present.  There  is  no  question  that  Black  Partridge 
received  the  medal  at  the  hands  of  President  Madi- 
son, and  he  it  was  that  made  the  speech  attributed 
to  him;  while  Alexander  Beaubien  tells  me  that  his 
mother  always  asserted  that  Black  Bird  was  also 
present. 

The  growth  of  the  settlement  after  the  massacre 
was  exceedingly  slow.  In  fact  there  was  no  progress 
to  speak  of  for  a  number  of  years.  Schoolcraft, 
who  attended  the  Indian  council  in  1821,  in  the 
north  side  grove,  opposite  the  fort,  states  that  "all 
the  white  men  living  between  Chicago  and  the  Mis- 
sissippi as  far  north  as  Green  Bay  were  present  and 
that  there  were  less  than  twenty  in  attendance." 
Even  as  late  as  1825  there  were  but  13  tax  payers  in 
the  place,  their  aggregate  possessions  being  estimated 
at  $8947,  upon  which  they  were  assessed  one  per 
centum,  yielding  the  munificent  sum  of  $89.47.* 
Truly  not  enough  to  induce  many  to  strive  for  office, 
or  seek  to  gain  a  livelihood  out  of  politics.  But 
there  must  have  been  more  incentive  eight  years  later, 

*Most  of  these  worthies  were  Indian  traders  from  necessity,  if  not  from 
choice.  The  following  being  the  list,  the  value  of  their  property  and  the 
taxes  paid: 

Valuation.  Paid. 

John  B.  Beaubien         $1000.  $10.00 

John  Crafts  (richest  man  in  the  place)        .      .       5000.  50.00 

A.  Clybourn,  (next  to  Beaubien)       ....         625.  6.25 

Dr.  Alexander  Wolcott            572.  5.72 

John  Kinzie,  Sr.,  has  been  at  it  a  long  time  for         500.  5.00 

A.  Wilmet  (formerly  Ouilmette)        ....         400.  4.00 

John  R.  Clark         250.  2.50 

Alexander  Robinson,  supposed  wealth         .      .          200.  2.00 
David    McKee,    C.    Lafromboise,    Jenny    Cler- 

mont  each  $100  total, 300.  3.00 

Joseph  Lafromboise 50.  .50 

Louis  Coutra 50.  .50 


Total  valuation  and  amount  paid       .      .       8947.  89.47 


102  EARLY  CHICAGO 

for  at  that  time — August  10th,  1833 — when  the  Town 
was  organized  there  were  twice  as  many  to  avail 
themselves  of  the  elective  franchise,  28  votes  being 
cast  and  all  but  one  in  favor  of  the  measure.  On 
the  15th  of  the  same  month,  at  the  first  election  after 
the  incorporation  of  the  Town,  the  same  28  votes 
were  cast,  13  of  them  by  candidates  for  office. 

These  early  voters  were  Dr.  E.  S.  Kimberly,  Hiram 
Pearson,  John  Wright,  Philo  Carpenter,  William 
Nensir,  Charles  Chapman,  Dr.  John  T.  Temple, 
Mathias  Smith,  David  Carson,  James  Kinzie,  Charles 
Taylor,  John  S.  C.  Hogan,  George  W.  Snow,  Madore 
Beaubien,  G.  Kercheval,  G.  W.  Dole,  S.  F.  Gale, 
R.  J.  Hamilton,  E.  Darling,  W.  H.  Adams,  C.  A. 
Ballard,  John  Watkins,  James  Gilbert,  E.  A.  Neder, 
D.  J.  Hapgood,  P.  F.  W.  Peck,  Walter  Kimball, 
S.  B.  Cobb. 

Trustees  elected  were  J.  V.  Owen,  Madore  Beau- 
bien, John  Miller,  Dr.  E.  S  .Kimberly. 

Now  as  J.  P.  Hatheway  made  a  survey  of  the  place 
at  that  time  and  took  a  census,  finding  43  houses  and 
less  than  100  men,  women  and  children  in  them,  28 
voters  would  seem  a  pretty  large  ratio.  Should  that 
proportion  occur  in  some  of  our  doubtful  wards  at 
election  time,  we  should  naturally  infer  that  a  good 
deal  of  colonizing  was  being  done  by  the  opposite 
party.  But  as  we  had  no  outlying  territory  from 
which  to  import  voters,  it  must  have  been  legal  and 
proper;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  was.  And  we 
must  remember  that  in  all  early  settlements  the  pro- 
portion of  men  to  women  is  large. 


THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  103 

The  population  of  Chicago  at  the  time  of  our  ar- 
rival is  somewhat  uncertain.  The  estimates  vary 
from  500  to  800.  But  the  population  of  the  place 
was  for  several  years  so  mercurial  in  its  evolutions 
that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  keep  your  finger  on 
a  man  long  enough  to  count  him.  The  fact  is  that 
many  people  passed  through  here  on  their  way  to 
other  points,  and  could  not  be  classed  as  inhabitants; 
while  others,  who  came  with  the  expectation  of  re- 
maining, were  so  disappointed  and  disgusted  with 
the  surroundings  that  nothing  could  induce  them  to 
settle  here.  Like  Columbus,  they  continued  their 
journey  westward,  eagerly  searching  for  land.  The 
many  transients  gave  the  place  the  appearance 
of  containing  more  residents  than  it  had.  Again,  it 
made  a  vast  difference  whether  the  estimate  was 
made  in  the  spring  or  fall,  because  additions  to  our 
number  were  made  between  those  two  seasons. 
John  S.  Wright  also  took  a  census  in  1833,  and 
his  numbers  agreed  with  Mr.  Hatheway's.  On 
the  other  hand,  Joseph  Meeker,  who  arrived  dur- 
ing the  summer,  placed  the  number  at  about  250; 
and  W.  B.  Ogden  at  about  the  same.  These  figures 
would  confirm  Gurdon  S.  Hubbard's  opinion — and 
there  could  be  no  better  authority — that  in  1832 
"there  were  150  persons  residing  here.  These  later 
estimates  would  be  more  consistent  with  the  num- 
ber of  votes  cast.  Dr.  J.  C.  Goodhue,  a  neighbor  of 
Meeker's,  places  the  population  in  the  fall  of  1834  at 
about  600.  He  says:  "No  houses  extend  to  Monroe 
street,  none  beyond  a  block  from  the  river  on  the 


104  EARLY  CHICAGO 

north  side,  and  about  a  dozen  on  the  west  side." 
As  our  boat  was  the  first  arrival  from  Buffalo  in  the 
spring  following,  there  could  not  have  been  many 
to  reach  here  before  us,  and  as  but  few  could  have 
come  after  the  doctor's  estimate  in  the  fall,  we 
think  about  600  is  a  fair  estimate  of  our  population 
on  May  25,  1835,  which  was  the  day  of  our  arrival. 
This  number  had  probably  tripled  before  winter 
placed  its  embargo  on  travel. 

Many  new-comers  found  their  way  to  Galena  and 
what  is  now  Grant  County,  Wisconsin — which  state 
was  not  even  organized  as  a  territory  until  the  fol- 
lowing year  (1836), — emigrants  being  drawn  to  these 
points  by  the  lead  mines.  Aside  from  Green  Bay 
and  Grant  County,  the  present  Wisconsin  at  the 
time  of  our  arrival  had  not  a  hundred  people,  while 
our  state  contained  less  than  some  of  our  annexed 
suburbs  at  the  present  time. 

As  our  town  was  at  the  head  of  navigation,  and  was 
the  point  which  most  immigrants  who  made  the 
journey  from  the  east  by  teams  made  for,  it  had  a 
large  floating  population,  compared  with  the  per- 
manent residents.  For  the  most  part  the  early 
immigrants  were  eastern  people,  accustomed  to  a 
diversified  scenery  and  good  roads,  and  nothing  could 
induce  them  to  settle  in  such  a  swamp.  Still  from 
first  to  last  enough  have  concluded  to  cast  in  their 
fortunes  with  the  hopeful,  enthusiastic  pioneers  to 
increase  its  population  from  the  century  figures  to 
the  millions. 

That  genial  writer,  Charles  Feno  Hoffman,  sub- 


THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  105 

sequently  the  founder  of  the  Knickerbocker  Mag- 
azine, in  an  article  in  his  "New  York  American," 
January  10th,  1834,  from  Harry  Graves'  Mansion 
House,  states  that  "  Four  fifths  of  the  population  of 
this  place  have  come  in  since  last  spring;  the  erection 
of  new  buildings  during  the  summer  has  been  in  the 
same  proportion;  and  although  a  place  of  such  mush- 
room growth  can,  of  course,  boast  of  but  little 
improvement  in  the  way  of  buildings,  yet  contracts 
have  been  made  for  the  coming  season  which  will 
give  Chicago,  shortly,  much  of  that  metropolitan 
appearance  it  is  destined  so  promptly  to  assume." 

Sleeping  in  the  attic  of  that  early  hostelry,  with 
thirteen  others,  in  a  single  room  containing  seven 
beds,  with  the  winter  wind  whistling  between  the 
poorly  chinked  logs,  with  packs  of  hungry  wolves 
howling  in  every  direction  at  all  hours  of  the  night, 
with  Indians  in  the  immediate  vicinity  outnumber- 
ing the  whites  twenty  to  one,  with  scarcely  an  evidence 
of  civilization  around  him,  his  glowing  prognostica- 
tion, in  the  light  of  subsequent  events,  bears  the 
impress  of  sagacious  prophecy.  And  what  Hoffman 
felt,  saw  and  heard,  all  who  were  in  Chicago  in  the 
early  thirties,  felt,  saw  and  heard.  Yet  they  fully 
understood  that  those  brilliant  prophecies  of  the 
future  did  not  diminish  the  unquestioned  privations 
of  the  present,  nor  could  their  fulfillment  exactly 
compensate  for  the  hardships  they  were  compelled 
to  endure. 

Little  was  there  in  the  surroundings  of  that  Indian 
trading  post  to  please  the  eye,  gratify  the  ear,  or 


106  EARLY  CHICAGO 

cheer  the  heart.  They  saw  the  Indians,  they  heard 
the  wolves,  they  felt  the  wintry  blasts  in  their  ill- 
constructed  houses.  They  saw  Fort  Dearborn,  and 
read  in  the  very  fact  of  its  existence  a  warning  to 
immigrants.  It  admonished  them  all,  too,  of  recent 
dangers.  Erected  but  19  years  before  our  arrival,  on 
the  ruins  of  its  predecessor,  which  had  been  destroyed 
the  day  after  the  Indian  Massacre,  it  stood  a  warning 
for  all  new-comers,  and  recalled  to  them  the  fact, 
still  so  fresh  in  memory,  that  within  three  years,  yes, 
even  less  than  that,  General  Scott,  with  all  the  sol- 
diers he  could  command,  had  been  hastily  summoned 
to  this  very  spot  to  protect  the  settlers  from  the 
Sauk  and  Foxes,  then  on  the  warpath  under  Black 
Hawk  and  Keokuk. 

They  saw  but  very  little  in  the  town  as  it  then  was 
to  re-assure  and  encourage  them.  Even  most  of  the 
stores  and  dwellings  had  been  erected  by  "  squatters," 
who  were  obliged  to  assume  the  risk  of  buying  the 
land  when  it  came  into  the  market  or 

"Fold  their  tents  like  the  Arabr. 
And  as  silently  steal  away," 

should  some  unprincipled  person  outbid  them.  The 
humble  homes  were  in  close  proximity  to  the  fort, 
while  the  stores,  as  a  rule,  were  on  Water  street,  which 
was  intersected  by  a  slough,  and  a  diminutive  creek, 
which  meandered  from  the  vicinity  of  Randolph  and 
Dearborn  and  emptied  into  the  river  near  State  street. 
The  slough  could  be  crossed  hear  the  river  on  four 
logs  running  lengthwise,  if  you  were  skilled  enough 
to  walk  them.  If  not,  it  was  better  to  take  the 


THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  107 

advice  of  the  bull  frogs,  so  numerous  in  this  locality, 
which  we  boys  used  to  interpret  as, "  Better  go  round, 
better  go  round,  better  go  round,  knee  deep,  knee 
deep,  knee  deep." 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  the  settlers  when  the  re- 
moval of  our  copper  colored  neighbors  was  peace- 
fully accomplished.  Not  so  much,  possibly,  that  we 
desired  to  be  rid  of  the  Indians  themselves,  as  of  the 
horde  of  itnierant  human  vampires,  who  managed 
to  secure  most  of  the  annuities  paid  by  the 
Government  to  those  unsophisticated  children  of 
nature,  by  robbing  them,  in  the  way  of  trade,  of  the 
silver  half  dollars  which  every  member  of  the  tribe 
received.  If  they  failed  to  strip  them  of  everything 
under  the  semblance  of  barter,  these  parasites  would 
surreptitiously  sell  the  Indians  the  vilest  of  intox- 
icants at  outrageous  prices  and  would  rob  them  while 
drunk,  not  only  of  the  blankets  given  them  by  the 
Government  but  every  valuable  article  they  might 
still  be  possessed  of. 

James  A.  Marshall,  in  his  lecture  before  the  Chicago 
Historical  Society,  stated,  "The  manner  the  Indian 
had  of  giving  in  the  number  of  each  household,  in 
order  to  receive  their  annuity,  was  in  keeping  with 
their  own  originality.  Selecting  one  of  the  more 
prominent  of  their  number,  (generally  a  chief)  to  re- 
ceive their  payments,  the  modus  operandi  was  in 
this  wise:  for  the  heads  of  the  family,  two  large 
notches  were  cut  at  the  top  of  a  stick,  then  smaller 
notches  followed  underneath,  indicating  the  number 
of  children  in  each  family.  Curiosity  led  me  to  in- 


108  THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW 

quire  of  Colonel  Boyd,  the  Indian  agent,  if  he  was  not 
occasionally  imposed  upon,  or  did  they  sometimes  not 
make  mistakes.  He  informed  me  that  he  had  never 
detected  an  instance  of  fraud  or  mistake  in  the  count 
during  all  the  payments  he  had  made. 

With  some  tribes  sticks  of  various  sizes  were  em- 
ployed to  represent  the  members  of  the  families. 

By  the  treaty  entered  into  on  September  26, 
1833,  between  the  Government  representatives  and 
the  United  Nation  of  the  Chippewa,  Ottawa,  and  Pota- 
wattomie  tribes,  the  Indians  ceded  to  the  United 
States  all  their  land  along  the  western  shore  of  lake 
Michigan,  and  between  the  lake  and  the  land  already 
ceded  to  the  Government  by  the  Winnebago  nation, 
September  15,  1827.  In  part  consideration  for 
which  they  were  to  receive  nearly  a  million  dollars, 
directly  and  indirectly,  and  about  five  millions  acres 
of  land  west  of  the  Mississippi  river,  which  the  In- 
dians agreed  to  occupy  within  three  years.  They 
were  to  be  removed  at  the  expense  of  the  Government, 
and  supported  while  on  their  journey  and  for  one  year 
after  reaching  their  new  home.  A  deputation  of 
their  chiefs  and  head  men,  not  exceeding  fifty  per- 
sons, were  to  accompany  the  five  individuals  selected 
by  the  Indians  and  the  United  States,  to  inspect  the 
land  to  be  assigned  them  and  to  see  that  justice  was 
done  the  Indians.  There  were  a  number  of  reser- 
vations made  to  certain  individuals  who  had  proved 
themselves  true  friends  of  the  whites. 

On  August  29,  1835,  the  citizens  were  informed 
as  follows: 


THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  109 

THE  INDIANS. 

"Report  is  received  from  the  exploring  party  sent 
west  of  the  Mississippi  river,  that  game  is  abundant 
and  recommends  the  removal  of  the  Indians. 

"The  goods  for  paying  them  off  have  not  yet  ar- 
rived, and  a  large  part  of  the  Indians,  weary  of  loung- 
ing about  our  streets,  have  retired  to  the  neighboring 
woods  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  goods  and  time  of 
payment." 

Near  the  New  York  House  on  Tuesday,  August  18, 
1835,  about  800  braves  out  of  the  5000  Indians  ap- 
peared in  their  last  war  dance,  which  was  performed 
for  the  edification  of  the  whites.  This  being  im- 
mediately opposite  our  house,  it  gave  us  a  favorable 
opportunity  of  viewing  the  performance,  from  which 
my  people  derived  but  little  pleasure,  while  it  fright- 
ened me  dreadfully.  The  whole  thing  remains  but  a 
dim  memory,  associated  with  horrid  incantations  and 
demoniacal  yells,  varied  by  monotonous  torn  toms 
and  dismal  chants. 

About  one  half  of  the  Indians  then  assembled 
were  removed  shortly  after  by  Major  Sibley;  and  in 
the  following  year  the  remainder,  under  the  charge 
of  Colonel  J.  B.  F.  Russell,  were  transferred  to  Clay 
County,  Missouri,  locating  two  years  afterwards  in 
Iowa,  near  Council  Bluffs,  thence  shortly  to  Shawnee 
County,  Kansas,  whence,  after  a  little  more  than  30 
years,  the  remnant — 1600 — were  transferred  to  the 
Indian  Territory. 

September  24,  1835,  Colonel  Russell  advertised  for 
"Ox  teams  and  covered  wagons,  to  remove  the 
Indians." 


110  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Alexander  Beaubien  informs  me  that,  the  tribes 
encamped  a  few  days,  awaiting  transportation,  at 
Shabonee  Grove,  in  the  southern  part  of  De  Kalb 
County,  whither  he  and  his  father  went  with  a  stock 
of  goods  and  traded. 

The  year  following  they  received  their  last  pay- 
ment, which  gave  rise  to  the  following  items: 

"August  20,  1836. 

INDIAN  PAYMENT. 

"On  Monday  next  there  is  to  be  a  payment  of  $61,- 
000.  The  money  was  received  by  the  Steamer  Mich- 
igan from  Detroit.  Rumor  says,  that  the  banks  of 
Detroit  were  somewhat  pushed  to  raise  the  specie, 
and  that  they  had  to  send  all  along  the  shore  for  it." 

"Money  is  expected  to  be  more  plentiful  after  the 
Indian  payment." 

"September  10,  1836. 

INDIAN  PAYMENT. 

"The  slow  process  of  paying  the  Indians  according 
to  the  treaty,  was  concluded  Wednesday  last." 

For  years  we  were  regaled  by  such  articles  as  these 
in  the  American: 

"St.  Joseph,  Michigan,  Sept.  12,  1840. 

MORE    INDIAN  MURDERS. 

"It  becomes  our  melancholy  duty  to  record  further 
sickening  details  of  Indian  barbarity. 

"On  Thursday  morning,  the  10th  inst.,  the  house 
of  Mr.  Wyley  Jones,  on  the  Esconfina,  in  Washington 
Co.  about  6  miles  north  of  this  place,  was  attacked 


THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  111 

by  a  party  of  Indians,  the  premises  all  burnt,  and 
Mrs.  Jones  and  one  of  her  children,  an  infant,  shot. 
We  have  conversed  with  Mr.  Jones,  who  says  that 
he  was  returning  from  one  of  his  fields  about  10  o  'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  when  within  200  yards  of  the 
house  he  heard  four  or  five  rifles  fired  in  the  yard;  he 
ran  for  the  house  and  on  rising  the  hill  found  the 
house  surrounded  by  Indians,  and  8  or  10  in  the 
piazza.  The  Indians  discovered  him  at  that  moment 
and  pursued  him,  firing  and  whooping  at  him  like 
devils.  Being  entirely  unarmed,  without  even  a 
knife,  he  fled  and  escaped  in  the  hummock/' 

"Oct.  26,  1840. 

MICHIGAN  INDIANS. 

"We  learn  that  400  or  500  Indians  from  this  State 
are  now  being  transported  west  of  the  Mississippi, 
under  the  general  superintendence  of  Major  Forsyth. 
They  were  averse  to  going,  and  are  therefore  escorted 
by  a  military  force  from  Detroit  under  General 
Brady." 

Could  these  poor  fellows  have  been  assured  of 
plenty  of  game,  they  might  not  have  objected  to  going, 
but  they  could  not  read  as  a  white  man  could  such 
news  as  this: 

"Oct.  26,  1841. 

LARGE  DROVE  OF  BUFFALOES. 

"A  captain  of  dragoons  has  informed  the  editor  of 
the  '  Hawk  Eye  and  Iowa  Patriot/  that  it  took  his 
company  half  a  day  to  cross  the  trail  of  a  drove  of 
Buffaloes." 

But  I  see  that  I  have  chased  the  Indians  beyond  the 


112  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Mississippi,  and  I  think  it  is  about  time  for  me  to 
return,  though  it  is  not  with  unalloyed  pleasure  that  I 
am  called  upon  to  part  with  them.  For  I  remember 
how  as  a  boy  I  prized  the  granulated  maple  sugar  we 
were  wont  to  purchase  of  squaws.  It  was  put  up  in 
small  birch  bark  boxes  ornamented  with  colored 
grasses,  and  in  large  baskets  made  of  the  same  ma- 
terial holding  some  25  pounds.  After  the  departure 
of  the  larger  tribes,  we  were  occasionally  enabled  to 
purchase  it  of  straggling  bands  coming  from  the 
north  or  Michigan. 


CHAPTER   IX 

SOME  EARLY  PRACTICES 

In  looking  over  the  list  of  those  who  voted  on 
Tuesday  May  2d,  1837,  at  the  first  election  for  Mayor, 
I  have  wondered  why  father,  as  good  a  Whig  as  he 
was  and  such  an  admirer  of  John  H.  Kinzie,  the 
Whig  candidate,  who  made  such  an  excellent  Presi- 
dent of  our  Town,  should  have  voted  for  his  successful 
Democratic  opponent,  William  B.  Ogden,  though  an 
equally  desirable  man.  But  the  records  of  the  First 
Ward  show  that  to  have  been  the  case. 

It  was  a  viva  wee  vote,  and  that  manner  of  voting 
was  going  back  to  the  Democracy  of  Ancient  Greece, 
when  small  communities  thus  expressed  their  pref- 
erences. Originally  all  voting  in  the  State  was  done 
by  ballot,  until  the  Legislature,  at  the  session  in  1828- 
'29,  changed  the  manner,  giving  the  following  illogical 
reason  for  so  doing: 

"'As  nobody  is  willing  to  make  known  whom  he 
has  voted  for  at  the  elections,  since  to  vote  against  a 
candidate  is  considered  a  personal  insult,  and  as 
balloting,  by  opening  a  vast  field  for  intrigue,  fraud 
and  corruption,  brings  the  system  of  voting  into  dis- 
grace, it  is  therefore  made  unlawful." 

Evidently  there  were  times  when  it  was  unsafe  to 

let  it  be  known  that  one  had  voted  against  a  belligerent 

us 


114  EARLY  CHICAGO 

candidate.  For  it  is  related  that "  In  the  year  1827," 
a  year  before  the  above  singular  action  was  taken  by 
by  our  State  Solons,  "  there  was  a  very  exciting 
election  for  State  Treasurer  in  which  the  former  oc- 
cupant of  the  office  was  defeated.  After  the  election 
the  legislature  adjourned,  but  before  they  had  left 
the  hall  the  defeated  candidate  walked  in  and  gave 
a  valiant  thrashing  to  four  of  the  strongest  of  his 
opponents  who  had  voted  against  him,  others  escap- 
ing." 

Voters  were  not  numerous  with  us  then,  and  every 
man  was  expected  to  vote  at  least  once. 

In  the  issue  of  the  American,  Oct.  31,  1840, 
occurs  the  following  appeal  to  call  out  the  full  strength 
of  the  Whigs: 

"This  City  and  County  in  1836,  gave  General  Har- 
rison 7  majority.  Can  we  not  do  it  again?  Let  us 
try." 

About  the  time  pretty  thick  ice  was  forming  in  this 
vicinity  we  learned  that  log  cabins  and  hard  cider  had 
won  the  day  and  the  Tip  boys  prepared  to  celebrate, 
the  Whig  paper  doing  a  little  free  advertising  that 
the  good  work  might  "go  bravely  on." 

Some  of  the  veteran  Tippecanoe  men  may  remember 
this  call: 

"TO  THE  TIP  BOYS! 

OLD  TIP'S  COMMITTEE  OF  THE   WHOLE    in    this   city 

is  invited  to  be  present  with  shovels  and  carts  at  the 
enclosed  lot  of  Walter  Newberry,  Cor.  Clark  and 
North  Water  street,  to-morrow  morning  to  assist 
in  preparation  for 


SOME  EARLY  PRACTICES  115 

THE  GREAT  WHIG  BARBECUE,  ETC. 

Come  one  come  all,  and  LET  THE  WORK  GO  BRAVELY 
ON. 

By  order  of  the  committee  of  arrangements. 

Nov.  30,  1840." 

ILLUMINATION  CANDLES. 

"We  have  just  been  shown  a  fine  specimen  of  tin 
candle  sticks  for  illumination,  by  Mr.  H.  Mallory  at 
the  corner  of  Dearborn  and  Lake  streets  (Botsford  & 
Beers  old  stand),  which  he  sells  at  the  low  price  of 
Sl.OO  a  hundred." 

"Dec.  2nd,  1840. 

HARRISON  CELEBRATION. 

"General  arrangements  for  the  day: 
"Firing  of  cannon  commences  at  sunrise  and  will 
be  continued  through  the  day.  It  is  expected  the 
barbecue  will  take  place  at  2  p.  M.  Ladies  will  be 
cordially  received  from  10  to  12  A.  M.  Salute  of  26 
guns  at  sundown.  At  6 :30  P.  M.  two  guns  will  be  fired 
in  quick  succession  as  a  signal  for  the  illumination, 
when  every  individual  disposed  is  requested  to  illu- 
minate, and  not  before.  A  band  of  music*  will  add 
to  the  enjoyment  of  the  day." 

CHICAGO  BAND. 

"We  are  glad  to  be  able  to  state  that  our  city  can 
now  boast  of  a  fine  band  of  music,  Mr.  Nicholas 
Burdell  leader.  The  band  is  composed  of  16  pieces. 

"We  trust  it  may  be  liberally  encouraged." 

We  are  not  now  obliged  to  wait  until  the  middle  of 

*This  Band  referred  to  was  an  impromptu  affair  gotten  up  for  the  occa- 
sion, and  led  to  the  formation  of  the  one  noticed  in  the  "American"  June  14, 
1841. 


116  EARLY  CHICAGO 

winter  before  we  can  receive  Presidential  election 
returns. 

I  remember  that  my  little  fingers  got  pretty  cold 
while  I  was  munching  a  piece  of  that  ox  and  won- 
dering when  the  folks  would  light  all  the  candles  in  the 
windows. 

Events  such  as  these  made  the  evenings  especially 
lively  at  the  Original  Chicago  Club — the  store  kept 
by  Joe  Gray,  where  the  Pioneers  were  wont  to  as- 
semble after  supper.  The  old  sinners  had  been  re- 
quested by  their  wives  to  purchase  the  family  gro- 
ceries, and  to  "Hurry  right  back,  to  roast  and  grind 
the  coffee  (made  of  peas  and  barley),  split  and  bring 
in  the  kindling,  take  down  the  clothes  line  and  wash 
the  little  boys  and  put  them  to  bed."  They  would 
attend  to  the  purchases  all  right  and  had  the  con- 
tents of  their  baskets  methodically  charged,  but  if 
you  expected  those  burghers  and  dutiful  husbands  to 
hie  to  their  modest  homes  to  discharge  the  manifold 
duties  assigned  them  by  their  overworked  helpmeets, 
your  hopes  were  not  founded  upon  knowledge;  for 
that  corterie  of  intelligent,  earnest  men,  oblivious  to 
conjugal  admonitions,  were  engrossed  in  the  more 
important  matters  of  statecraft.  There  they  sat,  a 
dozen  or  more  on  boxes  and  barrels,  making  and  un- 
making local  politicians,  censuring  or  praising  the 
prominent  men  of  our  own  and  foreign  countries; 
and  having  settled  in  a  satisfactory  manner  all  the 
important  questions  of  the  day,  and  happening  to 
notice  Frank  put  up  the  inevitable  heavy  wooden 
shutters  of  the  period,  which  was  considered  as 


SOME  EARLY  PRACTICES  117 

essential  to  properly  "close  up "  as  locking  the  door, 
they  would  take  the  hint  like  gentlemen,  reluctantly 
pickup  their  respective  baskets  and  start  for  home 
and  the  curtain  lecture. 

That  the  ladies  occasionally  rebelled  when  too 
grossly  slighted  we  may  infer  from  reading  in  the 
American  the  following: 

NOTICE. 

"My  wife,  Mary  Bumly,  left  my  house  and  bed  on 
Saturday,  8th  instant,  without  any  just  cause,  and 
is  supposed  to  have  went  away  with  another  Hoosier, 
who  probably  knew  her  better  than  I  did.  They  will 
be  handsomely  rewarded  for  keeping  her  forever. 

Jacob   Reichter. 

Chicago,  August  8, 1835." 

But  Mary  was  an  exception.  Most  wives  treated 
their  lords  complacently.  Notwithstanding,  how- 
ever, the  usual  kindness  and  forbearance  with  which 
they  were  received,  the  self-condemned  husbands 
would  imagine  at  times  that  they  detected  a  slight 
cloud  settling  around  the  usual  loving  eyes  that  they 
had  never  noticed  in  their  pre-nuptial  days.  To  dis- 
sipate these  clouds,  and  frighten  the  troublesome 
guards  from  the  outposts  of  their  own  consciences, 
they  would  hasten  to  treat  their  wives  to  some  in- 
nocent gossip  which  they  had  picked  up  in  their 
absence  and  for  which  they  had  no  further  use,  with 
most  happy  results. 

But  we  should  not  censure  our  pioneers,  if  they 
sought  some  relaxation  in  idle  talk  and  innocent  gossip. 


118  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Their  lives  had  little  variety  and  much  hardship. 
Occasionally  dancing  was  indulged  in  by  our  good 
people,  who  were  wont  to  assemble  at  the  Lake  or 
Mansion  House  for  a  "Wabano."  The  affairs  were 
generally  held  in  the  latter  place  on  account  of  its 
more  central  location,  which  was  a  very  great  ad- 
vantage in  those  days  of  meagre  facilities  for  travel. 
An  invitation  like  the  following  would  call  out  the 
young  people  of  all  ages. 


GRAND  WA-BA-NO. 
MESSRS.  H.  AND  L.   HARMON 

are  respectfully  solicited 

AT  MR.  GRAVES'  ASSEMBLY  ROOMS 

on  Wednesday,  February  Five,  at  6  p.  M. 

MANAGERS. 

R.  A.  Kinzie,  J.  D.  Harmon,  J.  Spring, 
E.  K.  Smith,  M.  D.  Culver,  M.  B.  Beaubien. 
Chicago,  Feb.  1,  1834. 


It  will  be  observed  that  Wabanos  began  early  and 
wound  up  at  the  same  hour  in  the  morning  so  that  the 
room  might  be  re-furnished  and  "  set  to  rights  "  for  the 
seven  o'clock  breakfast,  in  which  the  dancers  usually 
participated,  as  well  as  in  the  six  o'clock  meal  of  the 
evening  before. 

Those  who  wished  to  dance  but  could  not  induced 
William  H.  Davis,  a  graceful  English  gentleman,  and 
a  good  dancer,  to  open  a  dancing  school  the  next 
winter  in  the  New  York  House,  which  was  attended 
by  Fernando  Jones,  John  C.  Haines,  Henry  L. 


SOME  EARLY  PRACTICES  119 

Rucker  and  others  from  whom  Chicago  selected  her 
mayors,  judges  and  prominent  men. 

An  occasional  lecture  used  to  be  given  us  by  some 
of  our  local  talent.  I  am  reminded  of  one  by  George 
Davis,  a  celebrated  singer.  The  lecture  was  on  the 
science  of  music,  and  although  it  is  55  years  ago  the 
impression  which  part  of  it  left  on  my  mind  is  so 
vivid  that  I  think  I  shall  ever  retain  it.  After  giving 
numerous  illustrations,  showing  how  essential  it  was 
that  the  music  should  harmonize  with  the  sentiment 
of  the  poet,  he  referred  to  many  instances  where  in 
church  music  the  tunes  were  not  adapted  to  the 
words,  using  the  familiar  Sicily  to  illustrate — 

Pity  poor  poll 

Pity  poor  poll 

Pity  poor  polluted  souls. 

Again — 

I  wish  a  man 
I  wish  a  man 
I  wish  a  mansion  in  the  skies. 

While  the  pretty  girl  soloist  in  the  choir  warbled 
her  plaintive  wish,  one  can  imagine  the  sly  winks 
among  the  young  men  in  the  pews. 

For  years  we  boasted  of  having  the  first  piano  in 
the  place,  but  I  am  reluctantly  compelled  to  admit 
that  this  was  a  mistake.  Humiliating  truth  demands 
that  I  should  acknowledge  that  ours  was  not  the  first 
but  the  fifth.  Alexander  Beaubien  tells  me  his  sisters 
were  sent  to  Detroit  to  be  educated,  and  upon  their 
return  his  father  brought  with  him  the  first  instru- 
ment. Mrs.  Dr.  Kimberly's  must,  therefore,  have  been 


120  EARLY  CHICAGO 

the  second,  Mrs.  Peter  Pruyne's  the  third,  and  Mrs. 
Samuel  Brooks'  the  fourth.  But  mother's  instru- 
ment was  one  of  the  sweetest  toned  ever  made,  and 
with  that  balm  I  heal  my  wounded  pride.  It  was  the 
second  one  manufactured  by  the  elder  Chickering, 
who  had  a  small  factory  in  the  second  story  of  a 
modest  building  on  Tremont  street,  Boston,  about 
1825.  At  the  time  he  was  making  his  first,  mother, 
who  was  a  sweet  singer  and  a  good  pianist,  watched 
his  progress  with  great  interest  and  when  it  was 
finished  she,  her  sister  Mary  and  Charlotte  Cushman, 
all  of  them  being  members  of  Rev.  Hosea  Ballou's 
choir,  tried  it  and  were  so  delighted  that  mother 
gave  him  an  order  immediately  for  its  duplicate,  the 
first  also  having-  been  made  to  order.  These  two 
instruments  created  considerable  interest  in  the 
musical  circles  of  the  then  small  city  of  Boston.  It 
served  my  people  some  30  or  35  years,  when  they  finally 
sold  it  to  Captain  Hugunin,  and  bought  something 
more  modern.  Years  afterwards  I  wished  to  possess 
it  again,  but  inquiry  revealed  the  fact  that  it  was 
consumed  in  the  great  Chicago  Fire. 

To  give  some  conception  of  the  hardships  all  were 
called  upon  to  endure  in  those  early  days,  I  will  cite 
as  an  example,  the  experience  of  James  H.  Collins. 
Mr.  Collins,  as  before  mentioned,  lived  in  a  single 
room  of  the  first  story  in  the  tenement  which  his 
family  occupied  on  his  arrival  on  June  3rd,  1834. 
Even  the  entire  building  could  not  have  comfortably 
accommodated  the  household  of  our  radical  Abolition- 
ist and  Anti-Masonic  new  comer.  The  cramped  con- 


SOME  EARLY  PRACTICES  121 

ditions  inside  made  it  necessary  to  utilize  the  gen- 
erous prairie  for  the  culinary  department  of  the 
establishment.  When  the  zephyrs  were  gentle,  so 
that  there  was  no  danger  of  igniting  the  grass  and 
burning  up  the  town;  and  it  did  not  rain,  to  wet  the 
kindling,  dampen  the  viands  and  bedraggle  the  skirts 
of  the  unfortunate  cook;  and  it  was  not  cold  nor 
dark  nor  sunny;  and  the  stove  did  not  refuse  to 
draw,  pouring  its  smoke  from  every  joint  into  the 
reddened,  streaming  eyes  of  all  around;  and  measly 
dogs  did  not  filch  the  meat,  nor  stray  cows  the  vege- 
tables, nor  razor  back  hogs  everything  not  nailed 
down; — why  then,  making  a  virtue  of  necessity,  the 
lawyer's  family  was  no  more  uncomfortable  than 
their  neighbors.  The  winters  were  the  most  to  be 
dreaded;  when  the  cold  and  snow  forced  everything 
under  cover,  and  the  kitchen  stove,  hardly  equal  to 
the  task  of  cooking,  refused  to  assume  the  greater 
responsibility  of  warming  the  room  to  prevent  the 
food  from  freezing  on  the  table,  which  occasionally 
occurred.  Then  there  was  so  much  actual  suffering 
that  the  discomforts  of  the  coming  summer  were 
looked  forward  to  with  happy  anticipations. 

The  present  generation  cannot  fully  comprehend 
what  all  this  meant.  Added  to  the  discomforts 
enumerated,  we  must  not  lose  sight  of  the  gloom  that 
evening  shadows  cast,  when  no  cheerful  light  could 
be  obtained  and  families  were  doomed  to  sit  in  almost 
absolute  darkness.  A  whale  oil  lamp  was  but  little 
better  than  the  tallow  candle  or  the  saucer  of  grease 
in  which  floated  an  ignited  rag.  Kerosene,  though 


122  EARLY  CHICAGO 

first  used  to  a  limited  extent  in  1826,  was  not  burned 
in  this  part  of  the  world  for  many  many  years  later. 

Unenviable  as  was  the  condition  of  the  town's 
people,  those  who  had  gone  into  the  country  to  make 
their  homes  were  still  worse  off.  For,  in  addition 
to  all  the  ordinary  hardships  of  pioneer  life,  they  had 
to  face  the  great  difficulty  of  an  insecure  tenure  of 
the  land  upon  which  they  had  settled,  and  which  was 
liable  to  be  taken  from  them  by  the  more  wealthy. 
The  feeling  against  this  class  was  exceedingly  bitter, 
often  resulting  in  bloodshed. 

Among  communications  addressed  to  our  old  paper 
is  one  demanding  some  way  of  "Protecting  actual 
settlers  in  Cook  County,  who  have  taken  possession 
of  unsurveyed  lands  for  the  purpose  of  establishing 
homes,  from  wealthy  speculators  who  have  the  means, 
which  the  settlers  have  not,  to  run  a  fence  as  much  as 
one  rail  high  around  the  claim."  As  the  poor  settlers 
had  no  redress  under  the  law,  the  correspondent 
advised  "  Lynch  law  if  necessary,  if  the  usurpers  will 
not  submit  disputes  to  suitable  men  appointed  in 
every  community  to  adjust  all  contentions";  which 
plan  was  adopted  generally  throughout  this  section. 
The  public  sentiment  made  the  decision  of  the  men 
thus  selected  as  binding  on  the  community  as  a 
decision  of  the  United  States  Supreme  Court  would 
have  been. 

I  before  stated  that  Colonel  William  S.  Hamilton 
found  here,  in  1826,  only  the  two  families  of  Kinzie 
and  Beaubien. 

John  Kinzie  Sr.  was  a  silversmith  by  calling,  but 


SOME  EARLY  PRACTICES  123 

supplemented  his  manufacturing  of  trinkets  for  the 
Indians  by  bartering  for  the  products  of  their  chase. 
He  had  always  proved  himself  their  true  friend,  a 
feeling  heartily  reciprocated  by  them.  Though  he 
and  his  family  were  made  captives,  they  received 
from  the  victors  of  Fort  Dearborn  the  kindest  of 
treatment. 

Mr.  Kinzie  built  a  comfortable  house  on  the  spot 
where  stood  the  cabin  which  he  had  purchased  of 
Le  Mai.  The  widening  of  the  river  brought  the  site 
much  nearer  the  stream  than  it  formerly  was.  The 
year  after  he  settled  here,  his  daughter,  Maria  Indiana, 
was  born,  (in  1805).  She  was,  I  think,  without  any 
question  the  first  white  child  born  in  the  place.  In 
1826  she  was  married  to  Lieutenant,  David  Hunter 
who  was  temporarily  in  command  of  the  two  com- 
panies then  garrisoning  the  Fort. 

A  license  and  some  one  legally  authorized  to  perform 
the  marriage  ceremony  were  as  essential  in  those  days 
as  at  the  present  time.  These,  however,  though  so 
easily  obtained  to-day,  could  then  only  be  procured 
by  long  waiting  and  extreme  good  fortune. 

Chicago  was  at  that  time  in  Peoria  County,  which 
included,  among  other  unfenced  territory,  the  present 
County  of  Cook.  The  county  seat  of  all  this  domain 
was  Fort  Clark,  distant  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles 
from  the  waiting  bride  and  impatient  groom.  The 
other  obstacle  which  confronted  them  seemed  even 
more  serious  than  the  320  miles  journey  for  the 
license.  For  there  was  not  a  single  person  at  hand 
who  was  qualified  to  perform  the  necessary  service. 


124  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Nor  was  there  a  clergyman  or  a  Justice  of  the  peace 
within  the  borders  of  the  outlying  wilderness,  from 
Lewiston  to  Green  Bay  and  from  Detroit  to — to — 
China.  But  when  did  not  love  laugh  at  locksmiths 
and  leap  mountains  of  difficulties?  So  needs  must 
that  Squire  John  Hamlin  of  Fort  Clark  join  Colonel 
William  S.  Hamilton — son  of  that  eminent  patriot 
and  statesman,  the  confident  of  Washington — who 
came  to  Peoria  with  a  drove  of  cattle  for  the 
troops  of  Green  Bay.  He  had  brought  the  drove 
from  Springfield,  and  was  to  pass  through  Chicago 
in  the  course  of  his  journey.  Hamlin,  who  was 
making  the  trip  out  of  love  for  adventure,  had  per- 
formed the  marriage  ceremony  for  Mr.  Wolcott  and 
Ellen  M.  Kinzie,  July  20,  1823.  This,  by  the  way 
is  supposed  to  have  been  the  first  wedding  in  this 
section  in  which  both  parties  were  white.  So  Dr. 
Wolcott  obtained  a  promise  from  the  young  Squire, 
that  upon  their  return  Hamlin  would  marry  the 
anxious  couple. 

During  the  absence  of  our  distinguished  drovers 
to  Green  Bay,  there  being  no  immediate  prospect  of 
an  Indian  outbreak,  Lieutenant  Hunter  felt  that  he 
could  spare  a  trusty  soldier  to  go  to  Fort  Clark  and 
obtain  the  marriage  license.  The  soldier  made  the 
entire  journey  on  foot,  and  returned  with  the  precious 
document  in  season  for  the  Squire,  who  had  become 
so  proficient,  by  practising  his  little  piece,  that  he 
was  enabled  to  perform  his  part  of  the  delightful 
ceremony  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  all  the  parties 
concerned. 


SOME  EARLY  PRACTICES  125 

The  young  Lieutenant  became  in  time  the  dis- 
tinguished General  Hunter,  who  died  about  the  close 
of  the  civil  war  in  the  National  Capitol.  His  widow 
closed  her  remarkable  life  also  in  Washington  in  1892. 
She  lived  long  enough,  however,  to  see  the  obscure 
trading  post  of  two  families  contain,  on  a  single 
block,  as  many  people  as  did  the  entire  State  of  Wis- 
consin at  the  time  of  her  birth;  to  see  her  native  city 
teeming  with  a  larger  population  than  the  five  states 
formed  from  that  immense  Northwestern  Territory, 
together  with  all  our  domain  west  of  the  Mississippi 
river,  could  boast  of  on  that  summer  day  in  1826, 
when  she  became  the  wife  of  Lieutenant  Hunter. 
These  may  seem  startling  statements,  but  neverthe- 
less they  are  true,  as  is  also  the  assertion  that  she 
saw,  in  her  86  years,  the  place  of  her  nativity,  which 
had  contained  but  two  white  families,  augmented  to 
one  million  four  hundred  and  five  thousand  nine  hun- 
dred and  two  souls. 

Her  brother,  John  H.  Kinzie,  who  came  with  the 
family  in  1804,  at  the  age  of  three  months,  grew  up  to 
be  one  of  our  most  public  spirited,  high  minded  and 
useful  citizens.  He  did  not  amass  so  large  a  fortune 
as  many  others;  but,  measured  by  the  higher  standard, 
living  as  he  did,  a  life  of  usefulness  to  his  fellows,  win- 
ning their  esteem  by  his  fidelity  and  honor,  and  being 
the  happy  embodiment  of  those  attributes  which 
give  joy  to  the  possessor  and  are  a  blessing  to  those 
with  whom  one  maybe  associated,  John  H.  Kinzie  was 
a  successful  man. 

At  the  time  of  the  Indian  Massacre  Mr.  Kinzie  was 


126  EARLY  CHICAGO 

8  years  of  age.  I  shall  not  dwell  on  that  sickening 
horror.  I  refer  to  it  only  to  plead  for  the  restoration 
of  the  name  of  Wells  street  on  the  south  side  of  the 
river.  It  seems  strange  that  this  exceptional  change 
should  ever  have  been  made  for  the  meaningless 
name  of  Fifth  avenue,  which  possesses  no  significance, 
and  is  the  only  numeral  avenue  or  street  reaching  the 
river  from  the  south. 

Those  who  are  familiar  with  the  thrilling  story  of 
Captain  William  Wells,  after  whom  the  street  was 
named,  always  feel  indignant  that  a  few  ignorant 
men,  who  by  accident  happened  to  be  Aldermen  in 
the  fall  of  1870,  should  have  been  permitted  to  ob- 
literate this  simple  memorial  of  a  city's  gratitude. 
This  is  no  place  for  a  lengthy  biography,  but  I  hold 
it  a  simple  duty  to  say  a  few  words  respecting  the 
closing  hours  of  this  soldier's  grand  life,  which  were 
bravely  given  in  defense  of  the  lives  of  those  who  were 
unable  to  defend  themselves,  at  the  Chicago  Massacre 
of  1812.  Learning  that  Captain  Heald,  who  was  a 
relative  of  his,  in  command  of  the  fort  intended  to 
evacuate  the  post,  and,  with  his  knowledge  of  the 
Indian  character,  realizing  that  it  would  be  certain 
destruction  to  do  so,  Captain  Wells  hastened  from 
Fort  Wayne  with  a  few  friendly  Miamis  to  try  to 
persuade  the  commander  from  taking  such  a  suicidal 
step.  But  he  arrived  too  late.  The  arguments  both 
of  the  civilians  and  the  officers  had  been  ineffectual 
to  change  the  plan  of  the  infatuated  commander  who 
did  everything  he  should  not  have  done  to  intensify 
the  animosity  of  the  savages,  before  ordering  the 


SOME  EARLY  PRACTICES  127 

doomed  cavaclade  to  proceed  on  its  journey  of  death. 
So  convinced  was  Captain  Wells  of  their  impeding 
fate,  that  he  adopted  the  Indian  custom  on  such 
occasions,  and  blackened  his  face,  preparatory  for 
death,  before  leaving  the  garrison.  Then,  placing 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  column  of  Miamis,  troops 
and  families,  with  the  band  playing  the  Dead  March, 
the  cavaclade  marched  to  destruction.  Reaching 
the  vicinity  of  18th  street  the  Pottawattomies,  who 
had  been  acting  as  an  escort,  now  some  way  in  ad- 
vance and  partially  concealed  by  the  scrubby  willows 
of  the  sand  hills,  opened  fire  as  predicted.  Wells, 
like  the  rest,  sold  his  life  dearly,  but  Pee-So-Tum 
finally  waved  his  reeking  scalp  in  triumph.  Wells 
gave  his  life  in  defense  of  the  citizens  of  Chicago,  and 
our  Chicago  Councilmen  after  his  death  expunged  his 
honored  name  from  the  long  street  running  parallel 
with  that  in  which  he  fell.  Such  is  gratitude ! 


CHAPTER   X 
THE  FIRST  OF  THE  MILLION 

Jean  Baptiste  Beaubien,  better  known  by  his  com- 
peers as  Colonel  John  Beaubien,  reached  here  in  1809, 
and  for  many  years  was  engaged  in  Indian  trading. 
This  consisted  in  exchanging  with  the  Indians,  for 
the  pelts  and  furs  of  wild  animals,  guns,  ammunition, 
traps,  tobacco,  blankets,  clothing,  calico,  beads, 
paints,  cheap  jewelry,  silver  ornaments,  bright  col- 
ored handkerchiefs,  etc.,  etc.  In  1828  he  became  tho 
agent  of  the  American  Fur  Company,  of  which  John 
Jacob  Astor  was  the  head.  The  colonel  was  a  prom- 
inent and  highly  respected  member  of  the  little  com- 
munity, and  filled  among  other  honorable  positions 
the  offices  of  justice  of  the  peace  and  major  of  the 
60th  Regiment  of  the  Illinois  State  Militia.  Though 
an  Indian  trader,  the  Colonel  made  ventures  in  real 
estate  and  he  showed  his  faith  in  the  coming  metropo- 
lis by  entering  in  1817  all  the  land  between  State 
street  and  the  lake,  and  Madison  street  and  the  river. 
He  made  a  few  sales  in  this  pre-emption  tract  and 
received  a  small  cash  payment  as  earnest  money 
awaiting  the  confirmation  of  his  title  before  obtaining 
payment  in  full.  But  unfortunately  for  him,  four 
years  afterwards  the  government  directed  that  this 
land  should  be  held  for  public  purposes  under  the 

129 


130  EARLY  CHICAGO 

name  of  Fort  Dearborn  Reservation;  and  refused  to 
grant  title  to  the  Colonel. 

Respecting  the  long  and  bitter  legal  contest  which 
ensued,  I  quote  the  following  from  the  Weekly  Amer- 
ican of  December  10,  1836: 

DECISION    OF   THE   BEAUBIEN    CLAIM. 

"Judge  Ford  has  decided  this  case  both  ways. 
That  although  Beaubien's  entry  is  legal  in  every 
respect,  yet  he  cannot  assert  his  rights  against  the 
United  States." 

To  fill  to  the  brim  his  cup  of  misfortune  his  attorney 
obtained  his  note  for  $10,000,  which  he  solemnly 
promised  to  return  to  him  if  he  did  not  win  the  suit ; 
but  instead  of  doing  so,  he  immediately  sold  the  paper, 
and  the  purchaser  of  it  obtained  judgment  and  sold 
the  unfortunate  man's  store  and  nearly  all  his  earthly 
possessions. 

But  if  our  friend  was  unfortunate  in  selecting  his 
attorney  and  in  his  controversy  with  the  government, 
he  won  a  prize  for  the  second  time  in  the  lottery  of 
matrimony,  gaining  the  heart  and  hand  of  the  pretty 
half-breed  maiden,  Josette,  sister  of  Joseph  Lafrom- 
boise.  Two  of  their  eleven  children,  William  and 
Alexander,  still  reside  in  Chicago. 

The  Colonel  had  a  tall,  commanding,  military  figure, 
which  he  always  retained.  After  going  into  business 
for  myself,  he  was  a  patron  of  our  Randolph  street 
store.  Twice  a  widower,  he  again  married  late  in 
life,  and  lived  at  Naperville.  One  day  he  came  into 
the  store,  his  smooth  face  wreathed  with  smiles,  ex- 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  MILLION         131 

tended  his  hand  and  said,  "  Galey," — he  always  called 
me  "Galey" — "I  got  a  bully  good  baby,  an'  my  vife 
vantz  zum  toilet  tings."  No  mother  with  her  first 
born  ever  felt  prouder  than  did  the  old  gentleman, 
who  had  grand  children  about  the  age  of  his  wife. 

The  Colonel  was  one  of  those  typical  French  Can- 
adians who  formerly  went  early  to  a  portage  or  a 
port  town,  entered  some  land  and  grew  up  with  the 
place.  They  had  only  to  keep  still  and  do  nothing, 
and  some  fine  spring  morning  they  rubbed  their  eyes 
in  astonishment  at  finding  themselves  wealthy.  The 
Colonel  aimed  right,  but  his  flint  lock  missed  fire. 
Had  he  entered  any  land  but  the  School  Section, 
Canal  Tract,  or  the  Reservation,  he  would  have  held 
it  without  a  question.  I  always  felt  sorry  for  him. 
It  seemed  as  if  everything  slipped  away  from  him. 
The  soil  he  used  to  cultivate,  the  fort  he  antedated 
by  seven  years,  the  river  bank,  and  even  the  river 
itself  which  flowed  southward  for  many  summers 
before  his  door  to  find  egress  to  the  lake,  the  friends 
he  loved,  but  buried, — even  their  graves,  which  he  was 
wont  in  his  loneliness  to  visit, — were  all  removed. 
Mansions,  Boulevards  and  Parks  occupied  the  ground 
where  his  cherished  comrades  had  once  reposed.  It 
is  hard  to  conceive  of  anything  more  pathetic  than 
those  sad  yet  inevitable  changes  for  that  disappointed 
good  old  man,  who  closed  his  eyes  to  the  clouds  of 
this  world  at  Naperville,  in  1864. 

His  son,  Alexander,  who  was  born  here  on  January 
28,  1822,  claims  at  this  writing,  May,  1900,  to  be  the 
oldest  living  person  born  in  the  place,  and  the  oldest 


132  EARLY  CHICAGO 

settler  in  Cook  county;  he  believes  himself  to  be  the 
first  white  child  baptized  in  this  vicinity.  Father 
Stephen  T.  Badin,  a  Catholic  priest,  came  to  Chicago 
with  the  Indians  from  St.  Joseph  Mission  and  stopped 
at  the  Colonel's  house,  where  the  baptism  took  place, 
/  in  1829,  as  there  was  no  church  in  Chicago  at  that 
time.  For  a  number  of  years  confessions  were  made 
in  almost  any  place  which  promised  secrecy,  a  favorite 
confessional  being  a  sofa  in  the  parlor  of  the  Colonel. 
Alex,  one  day  crawled  under  this  domestic  confes- 
sionary,  and  being  detected,  the  part  he  painfully 
played  in  that  service  he  still  remembers.  The 
Colonel,  as  his  intimates  call  him,  is  a  hale,  hearty 
man,  straight  as  was  his  father,  and  possesses  a  re- 
markable memory,  of  which  I  have  frequently  availed 
myself.  I  have  read  to  him  most  of  my  reminis- 
cences and  he  has  confirmed  them. 

It  has  for  many  years  been  an  honor,  coveted  more 
than  the  Presidential  chair,  to  enjoy  the  renown  of 
being  "the  oldest  living  person  born  in  Chicago." 
Not  a  few  have  claimed  that  renown  and  have  even 
mutilated  their  family  Bibles  and  the  records  therein 
contained,  in  a  vain  effort  to  prove  themselves  many 
decades  older  than  they  were,  and  like  Reuben,  "  The 
First  Born."  But  Alexander's  most  formidable  com- 
petitor is  Captain  Charles  Gale,  of  Sarnia,  who  as- 
serts that  he  was  born  in  the  fort,  February  7,  1817. 
Alex,  says,  "There  is  no  record  of  his  having  been 
born  in  Chicago.  He  says  his  father  was  a  soldier. 
I  don't  believe  him,  because  the  United  States  soldiers 
were  all  single.  The  Government  would  not  enlist 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  MILLION         133 

men  with  families,  as  there  was  no  place  for  their  fam- 
ilies in  the  garrison." 

If  Gale  is  right,  which  I  am  not  ready  to  admit, 
he  will  have  to  bring  forward  pretty  strong  testimony 
to  dethrone  Beaubien,  who  has  always  lived  here  and 
has  a  host  of  comrades  to  assist  him  if  need  be.  The 
fact  is,  we  old  settlers  feel  proud  of  our  young  friend, 
who  has  seen  a  place  of  two  families  become  what 
Chicago  is  to-day.  That  he  is  still  a  young  man,  one 
would  judge  by  reading  the  P.  S.  in  his  letter  to  me, 
Nov.  19,  1900: 

"  I  am  bound  to  kill  another  bear  and  a  wolf  before 
I  die.  I  can  find  bears  in  Grand  River,  plenty  of 
them,  while  as  for  wolves  I  can  find  them  in  Cook 
county." 

He  probably  can  find  the  latter  every  day  at  the 
Harrison  Street  Police  Station,  where  he  is  turnkey! 

Had  I  written  the  above  a  few  days  earlier,  I 
should  have  been  obliged  to  contest  the  claim  of  our 
old  friend  Alex.,  by  stating  that  Mrs.  Susan  Simons 
Winans  was  the  oldest  living  white  person  born  here. 
Her  birth  occurred  in  the  fort,  February  12, 1812,  her 
father,  John  Simons,  being  corporal  in  Captain  Nathan 
Heald's  Co.  of  the  1st,  U.  S.  Infantry.  He  and  his  son 
were  killed  in  the  massacre.  The  baby  girl,  at  that 
time  about  six  months  old,  was  taken  prisoner  with 
her  mother,  and  were  ransomed  after  a  captivity  of 
nine  months  among  the  Indians.  But  'only  last  Sun- 
day, April  29th,  1900,  I  attended  her  funeral  at  the 
home  of  her  daughter,  Mrs.  L.  A.  Glenn,  at  Santa  Ana, 
California,  where  she  had  resided  ten  years,  passing 


134  EARLY  CHICAGO 

away  Friday  morning,  April  27th.  With  others  I  was 
permitted,  amidst  the  billows  of  roses  which  covered 
the  casket,  to  look  upon  the  features  of  this  oldest 
representative  of  early  Chicago. 

Mark  Beaubien,  a  younger  brother  of  the  Colonel, 
was  one  of  our  most  interesting  characters  in  early 
days.  From  the  time  of  his  arrival  from  Detroit,  in 
1826,  he  represented  the  good  fellowship,  hearty  hos- 
pitality and  innocent  jollity  of  the  place.  Fiddling, 
dancing,  story  telling  and  horse  racing  were  equally 
fascinating  to  Mark,  unless  he  took  the  most  delight 
in  the  latter  pastime,  especially  on  the  frozen  river. 
When  he  got  a  start  on  that,  in  his  light,  home  made 
cutter  behind  his  mettlesome  pony,  you  could  hear 
him  shout  for  a  mile  in  his  excited  glee,  and  it  would 
take  a  Maud  S.  to  overtake  him. 

I  do  not  think  that  he  ever  engaged  in  the  prevail- 
ing business  of  the  period.  Bartering  gewgaws  for 
pelts  did  not  have  the  same  attraction  for  him  which 
entertaining  the  public  had.  He  drifted  naturally 
into  the  hotel  business,  where  he  depended  as  much 
upon  his  own  personality  for  success  as  anything  else. 
It  might  not  be  proper  to  repeat  Mark's  boast,  "I 
play  de  fiddle  like  (see  revised  version) — keeps 
tabbun  like  de  Debbel.  I  eats  50  people  for  dinner 
every  day,  by  gar.  Don't  you  call  zat  beesness,  I 
should  tink  by  tarn,  hey?"  I  say,  it  might  not  be 
proper  for  me  to  repeat  this,  so  I  will  not  do  it. 

It  is  a  matter  of  accepted  history  that,  on  the  oc- 
casion of  Colonel  Hamilton's  trip  to  Green  Bay  with  his 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  MILLION         135 

drove  of  cattle,  he  required  some  assistance  in  getting 
the  cattle  to  swim  the  river.  While  Squire  Hamlin 
and  Dr.  Wolcott  were  having  their  palaver,  Mark 
volunteered  to  aid,  which  he  did  by  slipping  a  rope 
around  the  hind  leg  of  a  bullock  and  drowning  it. 
This,  as  afterwards  admitted,  was  done  at  the  insti- 
gation of  his  elder  brother,  who  was  thus  enabled  to 
purchase  some  fresh  beef  which  he  could  not  other- 
wise have  obtained. 

While  keeping  the  Sauganash,  he  superintended 
the  Lake  street  ferry,  of  which  the  town's  people  had 
free  use,  but  others  were  charged  6i  cents.  As  the 
entire  County  of  Cook — which  included  the  present 
Counties  of  Dupage,  Will,  Lake  and  McHenry,  con- 
tained but  70  people  within  its  borders — his  receipts 
were  so  small  that,  after  paying  $5  license  fee  and  other 
expenses  there  was  nothing  left  for  his  trouble.  The 
bridge  which  followed,  paid  but  little  better,  and 
Fernando  Jones  says  he  tried  to  make  money  out  of 
the  boys.  The  following  story,  related  by  our  historic 
citizen,  is  so  characteristic  of  our  old  hotel  keeper  it 
must  have  a  good  warp  of  truth  running  through  it. 

Fernando  and  his  two  friends,  Harvey  Blakesly  and 
Ashley  Gilbert,  were  wont  to  pass  by  the  Sauganash 
and  over  the  bridge  daily  to  their  dinners  at  the  Green 
Tree  tavern,  where  they  all  boarded.  It  was  a 
pleasant  trick  of  Mark's,  however,  to  occasionally 
hinder  their  passage  by  loosening  from  its  staple  the 
chain  of  the  bridge,  so  that  the  latter  swung  over 
against  the  east  bank,  whence  it  could  only  be  re- 


136  EARLY  CHICAGO 

stored  to  position  by  the  aid  of  a  boat.  At  such 
times  Mark  would  meet  them  pleasantly  as  they  ap- 
proached the  river. 

"Well,  poys,  where  you  goin'  now,  eh?"  the  old 
tavern  keeper  would  inquire.  "Going  over  to 
dinner,  Mr.  Beaubien,"  one  of  them  would  reply. 

"Poys,  the  pritch  is  down,  but  I  ferries  over  the 
point  for  25  cents  each, — or  say,  poys!  If  you  come 
into  the  Sauganash  I  gifs  you  a  fine  dinner  for  a 
quarter  of  a  doller  a  head." 

The  choice  between  a  "quarter"  and  twenty-five 
cents  was  not  very  great.  The  boys  appreciated  the 
humor  of  the  Inn  keeper's  little  trick,  and  a  jovial 
hour  at  the  Sauganash,  seasoned  by  an  excellent 
dinner  occasionally  followed. 

I  remember  when  we  were  neighbors,  years  after- 
wards, how  I  delighted  to  slip  over  to  the  Illinois 
Exchange  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  evening,  and  see 
my  chum  "Monkey"  Beaubien  (Mark's  son)  dance, 
while  his  father  played  his  celebrated  fiddle,  in  such  a 
manner  that  would  make  a  deacon  keep  time  with  his 
heart  and  feet,  if  he  were  churched  for  it.  Monkey — 
we  called  Napoleon  by  no  other  name — was  as  full 
of  fun  as  his  father.  Once  he  paid  dearly  for  his 
"Monkey  shines."  His  brother  George,  with  a  hook 
and  line,  acted  the  role  of  a  fisherman  and  Monkey 
that  of  a  very  shy  though  saucy  trout;  but  at  last 
George  caught  him,  and  he  carried  the  fish-hook 
in  his  lip  three  weeks  before  it  could  be  taken  out. 
Matt  Laflin  used  to  delight  in  telling  a  good  thing 
that  Mark  got  off  on  him.  Mr.  Laflin  went  to  see  the  old 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  MILLION          137 

veteran  when  very  low  in  his  last  illness  at  Kankakee, 
where  he  died,  April  llth,  1881.  Approaching  his 
bed  side,  he  asked  the  invalid  if  he  knew  who  he  was. 
"Oh  yes,"  said  Mark  feebly,  "I  know  you,  certain- 
ment,"  "Who  am  I?"  said  the  caller.  Slowly  and 
with  considerable  effort  came  the  reply, "  Matt  Laflin." 
His  interrogator  was  not  fully  satisfied  and  put  the 
unfortunate  question,  "What  do  I  do?"  A  faint 
ripple  of  a  smile  spread  over  the  emaciated  counte- 
nance of  the  sick  man,  then,  as  the  hillside  is  crowned 
with  beauty  when  a  sunbeam  bursts  from  a  December 
cloud,  his  face  became  radiant  with  his  old  time  mirth 
as  he  answered  "steal"!  Matt  said  he  needed  no 
further  evidence  to  satisfy  him  that  he  was  fully 
identified  by  the  old  gentleman. 

On  his  death  bed,  he  willed  his  historic  "fiddle," 
to  Hon.  John  Wentworth,  who  graciously  presented 
it  to  the  Calumet  Club. 

Madore  Beaubien,  the  eldest  son  of  the  Colonel, 
was  the  idol  of  the  Pottawattomies,  and  joined  the 
tribe  permanently  in  1840,  at  Council  Bluffs  as  chief 
and  interpreter.  He  died  at  Silver  Lake,  Shawnee 
County,  Kansas,  in  1878,  where,  beside  the  dust  of 
many  dusky  comrades,  he  sleeps  his  untroubled  sleep. 
After  leaving  us  to  go  with  his  red  friends  I  met  him 
but  twice,  when  there  was  an  effort  at  the  same  aban- 
don and  cheeerfulness  which  were  so  characteristic 
of  him  in  his  younger  days;  but  as  I  saw  him  amidst 
surroundings  so  different  from  those  of  former  times, 
I  thought  that  I  detected  beneath  the  playful  speech 
those  sad,  sad  words,  "It  might  have  been," 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  EARLIEST  SETTLERS 

In  1820  there  came  to  Chicago  that  very  important 
personage  of  early  times, —  Billy  Caldwell,  the  fa- 
mous Pottawattomie  chief,  better  known  by  his  In- 
dian name  "Sauganash."  He  settled  on  the  west 
side  near  the  river  and  close  to  Robinson.  So  great 
were  his  services  to  the  Government  that  in  1828  it 
built  for  him,  on  the  west  side  of  Cass  street,  between 
Superior  and  Chicago  avenue,  what  some  have  claimed 
to  be  the  best  house  and  the  first  frame  in  the  place. 
But  I  am  assured  by  Alexander  Beaubien,  who  was  in 
it  hundreds  of  times,  that  it  was  not  a  frame,  but 
constructed  of  logs.  Yet  the  best  house  in  the  wrong 
location  was  not  so  attractive  to  Caldwell  as  the 
Point,  where  he  continued  to  spend  most  of  his  time 
with  his  old  neighbors. 

It  was  in  honor  of  this  distinguished  half-breed 
that  Mark  Beaubien  named  his  hotel,  which  was 
originally  a  one  storied  log  affair  placed  on  what  is 
now  Lake  street.  When  Surveyor  Thompson  showed 
Mark  in  1829  that  he  was  a  highwayman,  our  friend, 
not  liking  the  appellation,  removed  his  cabin  a  little 
to  the  south,  so  that  it  stood  on  the  east  side  of  Market 
south  of  Lake,  upon  the  corner  where  the  Republican 
Wigwam  was  subsequently  erected,  in  which  our 

180 


140  EARLY  CHICAGO 

beloved  Lincoln  was  first  nominated  for  the  Presi- 
dency. In  1830,  Mark  attached  to  the  south  end  of 
this  building  an  unusually  respectable  two  story 
frame,  which  he  painted  white  with  bright  blue 
wooden  shutters.  It  is  related  that  while  engaged 
in  its  construction  his  friend  Billy  Caldwell  called  from 
the  point  and  asked  him  "  what  he  was  putting  up?  " 

"I  builds  de  bes  hotel  in  dis  country,  dat's  what 
I  mean,  Billy!"  Mark  made  answer. 

"What  name  will  you  give  it?" 

"Didn't  t'ink  of  dat,  Billy,  but  I  calls  him  after 
some  great  man,  sure." 

"Oh!"  shouted  back  the  half-breed,  laughing, 
"There's  no  great  man  in  this  country  now!" 

"You're  a  great  man  yourself,  Billy,"  was  the 
genial  answer  of  the  Frenchman,  "an'  so  I  calls  my 
Hotel  de  'Sauganash'" 

Which  he  did. 

Another  half-breed,  who  was  of  importance  in  the 
early  history  of  the  settlement,  was  Alexander  Rob- 
inson, a  chief  possessed  of  great  influence  among  the 
Pottawattomies  and  friendly  to  the  whites.  For  his 
many  valuable  services  Robinson  was  presented  by 
the  Government,  on  the  removal  of  his  tribe,  with  a 
goodly  sum  and  a  section  of  beautiful  land  on  the 
Desplaines  river,  about  three  miles  north  of  Maywood, 
at  a  place  formerly  called  Cazenovia. 

Intimately  related  with  the  earliest  developments 
was  Gurdon  S.  Hubbard,  one  of  our  most  enterpris- 
ing business  men,  whose  remarkable  ability  and 
energy  had  earned  for  him,  at  the  early  age  of  six- 


THE  EARLIEST  SETTLERS  141 

teen,  the  responsible  position  of  Agent  of  the  American 
Fur  Company.  In  this  capacity  he  made  twenty-six 
trips,  from  the  company's  headquarters  at  Mackinac 
to  Chicago,  in  light,  open  boats  constructed  at  the 
former  place,  exchanging  Indian  notions  for  pelts. 
After  eight  years  of  successful  service  he  took  one 
half  interest  in  the  business  south  of  Chicago,  and 
left  Mackinac  in  1826  with  twelve  boats  filled  with 
merchandise,  the  proceeds  of  his  long,  laborious 
years  of  faithful  stewardship  and  strict  econ- 
omy. 

Reaching  Chicago,  he  did  not  wait  for  the  Indians 
to  come  to  him,  but  like  Mahomet  "went  to  the 
mountain."  Securing  one  hundred  ponies  and 
pack  saddles  at  Big  Foot  lake,  he  loaded  them  and 
started  for  the  wilds,  which  the  country  between 
the  Illinois  and  the  Wabash  could  then  very  well  be 
called,  for  previous  to  his  entering  it  and  estab- 
lishing posts  about  every  fifty  miles,  there  was  scarcely 
a  white  family  in  the  entire  region.  Two  years  later 
he  became  sole  proprietor  of  the  business.  These 
posts  cut  largely  into  the  profits  of  the  Government 
factors  in  Chicago. 

In  1832  he  permanently  engaged  in  traffic  in  the 
embryo  emporium,  which  soon  required  his  undivided 
attention,  and  within  two  years  he  gave  up  the  busi- 
ness that  he  had  managed  with  such  eminent  success. 
The  new  enterprise  was  conducted  in  his  warehouse 
on  the  southwest  corner  of  Water  and  LaSalle  streets. 
This  warehouse  was  the  first  brick  building  of  any 
description  built  in  the  place,  excepting  perhaps  the 


142  EARLY  CHICAGO 

one  erected  by  John  Noble  near  the  Lake  House, 
built  about  the  same  time. 

Mr.  Hubbard  was  always  one  of  our  leading  citizens, 
and  none  among  them  all  was  more  highly  respected. 
As  an  index  to  his  public  spirit,  I  copy  the  following 
from  the  Chicago  American  of  October  10, 1835: 

"We understand  that  G.  S.  Hubbard,  Esq.,  has  or- 
dered on  his  own  responsibility  a  fire  engine  with  the 
necessary  apparatus  to  be  sent  to  Chicago  immedi- 
ately from  the  east.  Individual  responsibility  being 
the  only  means  offered  for  obtaining  this  important 
instrument  of  protection,  we  trust  our  citizens  will 
avail  themselves  of  this  convenience  by  establishing 
a  fire  company  without  delay." 

Mr.  Hubbard's  early  experiences  when  a  young 
man  in  this  section  read  like  the  conceit  of  a  vivid 
imagination,  rather  than  a  truthful  narrative  of  what 
a  man  saw  and  did  who  afterward  walked  with  us  for 
so  many  years  as  a  progressive  citizen,  the  foremost 
in  every  movement  for  the  advancement  of  our  city. 

Among  all  our  pioneers  not  one  was  more  energetic, 
self-sacrificing  and  useful  hi  the  community,  or  held 
a  higher  place  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  than  Geo. 
W.  Dole.  To  sketch  his  life  would  be  to  write  the 
early  history  of  Chicago,  which  is  not  my  purpose, 
and  I  shall  dismiss  him  with  but  a  few  lines,  well  know- 
ing that  there  needs  no  feeble  pen  of  mine  to  perpet- 
uate his  name.  I  think  it  is  seldom  that  the  name 
of  George  W.  Dole  is  mentioned  in  the  presence  of  an 
old  settler  that  he  does  not  feel  like  taking  off  his  hat 
and  making  a  profound  salaam,  as  he  recalls  the  fact 


THE  EARLIEST  SETTLERS  143 

that  in  the  fall  of  '35  this  man  received  a  consign- 
ment of  flour  by  the  last  vessel  up,  so  that  the  town's 
supply  for  the  long  winter  was  in  his  hands,  and  he 
realized  the  fact.  There  was  no  Board  of  Trade  in 
Chicago  in  those  days,  but  there  were  speculators 
who  understood  the  value  of  such  a  corner  on  the 
staff  of  life.  But  when  offered  $25  per  barrel  for  the 
cargo  by  one,  the  eyes  of  the  little  man  flashed  with 
indignation  as  he  replied:  "No,  sir!  Nine  dollars  a 
barrel  affords  me  a  fair  profit.  I  will  retail  it  to  con- 
sumers only  at  that  figure.  No  man,  if  I  can  prevent 
it,  shall  speculate  upon  the  people's  necessities." 

Mr.  Dole  filled  a  number  of  important  positions. 
He  was  on  the  first  Board  of  Town  Trustees  in  1833 
and  our  seventh  Postmaster. 

Living  so  long  on  Lake  street,  within  a  few  doors 
of  S.  B.  Cobb,  I  naturally  saw  more  of  him  than  of 
almost  any  other  business  man  of  the  day.  Of  the 
half  dozen  letters  comprising  his  name  one  half  were 
busy  Bs,  a  significant  circumstance.  When  a  boy,  I 
looked  upon  a  side  wheeled  steamer  which  occasion- 
ally entered  our  river  as  the  embodiment  of  speed, 
and  1  easily  interpreted  S.  B.  to  signify  steam  boat, 
and  consequently  named  our  hustling  harness  maker 
"Steamboat  Cobb." 

He  arrived  here  in  1833,  and  borrowed  enough 
money  after  he  came  to  pay  a  balance  due  on  his 
fare.  But  he  soon  had  the  little  harness  shop  under 
way  on  the  Point.  This  small  shop,  which  was  the 
pioneer  factory  of  any  description  in  the  place  (unless 
the  silver  smithing  done  by  John  Kinzie  be  excepted), 


144  EARLY  CHICAGO 

grew  in  importance  daily  at  171  Lake  street,  and  fur- 
nished the  means  which  enabled  him  in  after  years 
to  employ  his  energy  and  excellent  judgment  in 
broader  fields,  such  as  lighting  the  city  and  furnishing 
the  people  with  constantly  increasing  advantages  in 
urban  transit.  By  these  laudable  means  he  accumu- 
lated a  large  fortune. 

As  soon  as  he  was  able  to  support  a  wife  he  married 
one  of  the  twin  daughters  of  Col.  Daniel  Warren,  after 
whom  Warrenville  is  named,  where  the  Colonel  set- 
tled the  year  of  Cobb's  arrival.  Jerome  Beecher 
married  the  other  sister.  Cobb  thought  that  he 
married  Maria  and  Beecher  always  believed  that  he 
himself  married  Maria,  but  they  only  knew  what  the 
girls  told  them,  for  the  sisters  so  closely  resembled 
each  other  .and  dressed  so  exactly  alike  that  it  re- 
quired intimate  acquaintance  to  distinguish  them. 
They  purchased  their  millinery  of  mother,  and  she 
never  could  tell  whether  she  was  waiting  on  Mrs. 
Cobb  or  Mrs.  Beecher. 

Many  selfish  people  make  a  great  show  of  their 
few  deeds  of  benevolence,  while  the  truly  benevolent 
let  not  their  left  hand  know  what  their  right  hand 
doeth.  I  suspect  that  the  first  president  of  the 
Chicago  City  Railway  Company  was  one  of  the  latter 
class,  and  that  he  gave  much  of  the  earnings  of  that 
fortunate  investment  and  the  dividends  from  the 
Gas  stock  in  an  unostentatious  manner.  But  when 
he  had  erected  Cobb's  Hall  at  the  University  of  Chica- 
go, the  public  was  prepared  to  learn  that  by  his  will 
he  had  given  $87,500  to  charitable  institutions. 


THE  EARLIEST  SETTLERS  145 

It  seems  that  he  closed  his  useful  life  of  88  years 
the  very  hour  that  I  was  writing  the  few  lines  above 
about  his  last  harness  shop,  April  5,  1900.  With  him 
passed  away,  I  think,  the  last  male  charter  member 
of  the  first  Unitarian  Society. 

When  we  took  that  historic  stroll  on  the  morning 
of  our  arrival,  we  did  not  go  out  to  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  that  sturdy  and  delightful  Virginian, 
Archibald  Clybourn,  but  I  made  up  for  it  subsequently, 
as  his  men  slaughtered  for  father  when  he  was  in  the 
market  business  years  afterward.  I  met  him  often, 
and  frequently  went  to  his  place,  where  I  was  always 
entertained  by  him  and  his  good  wife  in  true  Virgin- 
ian hospitality.  I  remember  that  some  time  after  he 
had  occupied  his  fine,  new  brick  house,  the  second  one 
in  the  place  built  of  bricks,  I  rode  out  there  on  horse- 
back with  one  of  father's  employes.  On  the  following 
day,  hitching  up  to  his  carriage  (one  of  the  best  in 
this  section),  we  went  to  St.  Charles  to  attend  the  first 
convention  of  the  Fox  River  Association  of  Univer- 
salists.  I  presume  that  1  must  have  been  a  lay  del- 
egate, as  I  assumed  that  restful  posture  on  the  banks 
of  the  Fox  most  of  the  time,  watching  the  boys  fish. 
At  least,  I  attended  no  gatherings  save  those  around 
the  festive  board. 

Mr.  Clybourn  was  a  tall,  well  built  man,  and  a  fine 
horseman,  with  a  complexion  ruddy  from  constant 
exposure  to  the  elements.  In  fact,  he  seemed  as  much 
at  home  on  a  horse  as  a  seaman  on  his  ship.  There 
were  no  Stock  Yards  in  those  primitive  times,  where 
one  could  go  and  select  fat  cattle,  calves,  sheep  and 


146  EARLY  CHICAGO 

hogs,  nor  was  there  much  stock  raised  in  this  vicinity. 
Clybourn  being  the  leading  butcher,  he  had  to  go  on 
horseback  to  the  southern  portion  of  the  state  or  the 
Wabash  region  for  his  cattle  and  drive  them  all  the 
way  up,  allowing  them  to  feed  on  the  prairie  grass 
en  route,  keeping  his  herds  here,  and  butchering  as 
required.  Sheep  were  also  slowly  driven  up,  but 
calves  and  hogs  could  not  travel  the  distance  on  foot, 
and  as  there  were  no  railroads  to  transport  them  it 
was  impossible  to  purchase  pork  or  veal  in  summer, 
excepting  occasionally  when  a  hog  or  a  calf  raised 
in  the  neighborhood  might  be  secured.  In  winter, 
however,  the  farmers  killed  and  dressed  their  hogs 
on  their  farms,  bringing  them  in  frozen  by  the  wagon 
load.  At  times  the  market  would  be  overstocked, 
when  I  have  known  father  to  buy  choice  pork  for  one 
or  one  and  a  half  cents  a  pound.  Dressed  turkeys 
would  also  be  brought  in  the  same  way,  and  he  would 
purchase  a  load  at  40  or  50  cents  each,  making  them 
cost  about  three  cents  a  pound. 

Mr.  Clybourn  arrived  here  from  the  western  part  of 
Virginia  in  1823,  and  engaged  in  the  business  of  In- 
dian trader  in  one  of  the  log  cabins  near  Cob  Web 
Castle,  making  frequent  excursions  into  the  country 
to  sell  his  wares  to  the  Indians,  when  weary  of  waiting 
for  them  to  come  to  the  post.  His  stock  consisted 
principally  of  Mackinaw  blankets,  beads,  ribbons, 
small  mirrors,  ear  rings  and  such  jewelry  made  from 
silver  coin,  as  his  neighbor,  John  Kinzie  Sr.,  could  fur- 
nish. This  trading  with  the  Indians  was  usually  the 
first  employment  engaged  in  by  new  comers  who 


THE  EARLIEST  SETTLERS  147 

could  not  teach  school  and  did  not  take  kindly  to  the 
water  business.  In  1826  our  friend  married  Mary 
Galloway  and  settled  on  his  pre-empted  farm.  Receiv- 
ing the  contract  to  supply  the  various  garrisons  in  this 
northern  country  with  beef,  he  commenced  making  his 
trips  south  for  cattle,  securing  such  assistance  en 
route  as  he  might  require.  As  this  section  was  be- 
coming somewhat  settled,  many  had  a  curiosity  to 
visit  it,  and  were  easily  induced  to  help  our  drover. 
It  might  be  a  Peter  Cartwright,  the  eminent  Meth- 
odist divine,  or  it  might  be  the  gifted  Colonel  W.  S. 
Hamilton,  or  some  lesser  personage  equally  well  qual- 
ified to  drive  cattle. 

Clybourn  was  a  whole  souled  man,  never  taking 
advantage  of  people's  necessities;  and  during  the 
Black  Hawk  panic,  when  the  settlers  deserted  their 
homes  and  fled  to  Fort  Dearborn,  he  saw  that  every 
one  was  fully  supplied  with  fresh  beef.  The  crossing 
of  rivers  with  his  stock  was  not  the  simple  affair  it 
would  be  to-day.  Then  there  were  few,  if  any  bridges ; 
and  swimming  streams,  journeying  in  all  kinds  of 
weather  with  wet  garments  on,  sleeping  in  them  while 
in  that  condition,  with  no  shelter,  required  the  iron 
constitution  possessed  by  our  enterprising  army  con- 
tractor, who  traveled  this  region  so  frequently  when 
our  entire  state  north  of  the  Sangamon  river  was 
divided  between  McLean  and  Jo  Daviess  counties, 
while  the  present  state  of  Wisconsin  was  known  as 
Brown  county,  Michigan  Territory. 

Mr.  Clybourn  was  the  first  Treasurer  of  Cook  county. 
He  lived  to  see  his  farm  covered  with  factories, 


148  EARLY  CHICAGO 

stores  and  dwellings,  passing  away  August  23,  1872, 
amidst  the  profound  sorrow  of  his  many  acquaint- 
ances. 

From  the  time  that  Philo  Carpenter  came  here  in 
the  spring  of  1832,  until  the  grave  closed  over  him,  I 
never  heard  a  person  accuse  him  of  saying  or  doing 
anything  unbecoming  in  a  high-minded  Christian 
gentleman,  which  I  think  the  Deacon  conscientiously 
and  persistently  strove  to  be.  The  cholera  breaking 
out  shortly  after  his  arrival,  he  devoted  himself  to 
those  in  need  of  sympathetic  care  and  attention. 
Soon  after  the  terrible  visitation,  he  opened  a  drug 
store,  the  first  in  town,  in  the  log  annex  of  the  Sau- 
ganash  hotel.  In  1836  he  was  doing  a  large  and 
varied  business,  selling  iron,  hides,  seeds  and  a  quan- 
tity of  other  things  not  generally  carried  in  a  drug 
store  now. 

But  nothing  could  resist  the  financial  storm  about 
to  break  upon  the  country,  and  in  1837  our  friend 
owed  $8,600,  which  he  could  pay  in  neither  cash, 
leather,  potatoes,  drugs,  nor  onion  seeds.  But  he 
showed  his  creditors  a  true  schedule  of  his  property, 
and  requested  them  to  take  what  they  considered 
fair  to  liquidate  his  obligations. 

That  Mr.  Carpenter  did  not  allow  high  prices  to  pre- 
vent his  purchasing  desirable  property  is  certain,  for 
the  records  show  that  he  paid  Mark  Beaubien  $20 
in  "store  truck"  for  his  home  lot,  on  LaSalle  street 
opposite  the  Court  House,  which  the  jolly  boni- 
face  won  in  a  raffle  and  hastened  to  dispose  of  to 
our  scrupulous  friend  before  the  good  deacon  ascer- 


THE  EARLIEST  SETTLERS  149 

tained  how  he  came  by  it,  which  Beaubien  feared 
might  block  the  sale.  In  1842  Mr.  Carpenter  removed 
to  143  Lake  street.  Selling  his  "  Checkered  Drug 
Store" — (so  named  from  the  black,  white  and  red 
squares  in  which  it  was  painted) — a  year  later  to 
Dr.  John  Brinkerhoff,  he  retired  permanently  from 
the  drug  business  to  devote  his  time  to  the  care  of  his 
estate — to-day  computed  at  about  a  million  and  a 
half — and  such  religious  and  philanthropic  matters 
as  always  claimed  a  good  share  of  his  attention  as 
well  as  a  large  portion  of  his  income. 

The  Masonic  Order  was  the  deacon's  red  flag.  It 
seems  paradoxical  that  so  ardent  an  Abolitionist  as 
he  was  in  years  agone,  a  man  so  sensitive  in  consider- 
ing the  rights  of  others,  so  earnest  to  relieve  want 
wherever  he  could  find  it,  was  so  bitterly  opposed  to 
a  benevolent  order  whose  object  is  to  treat  men  as 
brothers,  carrying  out  in  practice  the  example  set 
byour  Elder  Brother  nearly  two  thousand  years  ago. 
As  an  illustration  of  his  fidelity  to  his  convictions  we 
recall  that  when  the  First  Presbyterian  Church,  of 
which  he  was  one  of  the  first  few  cummunicants, 
declined  to  take  the  radical  ground  upon  the  slavery 
question  he  demanded,  he  tore  himself  away  from 
that  society  to  which  he  was  so  wedded  with  all  its 
hallowed  associations  of  twenty  years,  from  the 
friends  he  so  dearly  loved  and  whose  fellowship  he 
prized  so  highly,  to  build,  in  1855,  largely  at  his  own 
expense,  the  stone  Congregational  church  on  the 
southwest  corner  of  Washington  and  Green  streets, 
as  an  exposition  of  his  views  on  that  absorbing  ques- 


150  EARLY  CHICAGO 

tion.  It  requires  a  high  idea  of  duty  to  impel  a  man 
to  take  such  a  step,  and  the  sacrifices  he  made  in 
doing  so  were  known  only  to  himself  and  Him  who 
readeth  the  human  heart  as  an  open  book.  He  en- 
tered the  Higher  School,  where  we  are  to  re-learn 
many  things,  August  7,  1886. 

Although  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  was  or- 
ganized in  the  second  story  of  P.  F.  W.  Peck's  store, 
I  do  not  think  that  he  was  a  Presbyterian,  although 
the  usual  solemnity  of  his  countenance,  as  seen  through 
his  full,  dark  beard,  might  impress  one  that  he  must 
be  a  worthy  and  theologically  unchanged  descendant 
of  our  grand  old  Calvanistic  forbears. 

The  father  of  our  Paris  Fair  Commissioner  had  un- 
bounded faith  in  Chicago  realty,  and  instead  of  in- 
vesting his  means  in  buildings,  which  would  bring  him 
in  an  income,  he  chose  to  leave  most  of  his  property 
unimproved,  while  he  added  continually  to  his  un- 
productive holdings.  The  consequence  was  that  with 
all  his  wealth,  like  many  more  of  us,  he  was  land  poor. 

At  one  time  my  people  hired  a  lot  of  Peck,  163 
Lake  street,  upon  which  they  built  mother's  New 
York  Millinery  Store,  and  I  frequently  saw  our  land- 
lord, who  was  an  interesting  conversationalist,  and 
he  and  father  would  spend  hours  conversing  together. 
I  well  remember  hearing  him  remark  once  that  he  was 
going  to  move  from  the  vicinity  of  the  Baptist 
Church — he  was  then  living  on  Washington  street, 
southwest  corner  of  LaSalle — because  on  a  rainy 
Sunday  the  church  people,  taking  advantage  of  his 
proximity,  came  there  to  dinner  in  crowds,  and  he 


THE  EARLIEST  SETTLERS  151 

could  not  well  prevent  it.  He  finally  removed  to 
the  west  side  of  Clark,  near  Jackson,  and  thence  to 
Terrace  Row,  now  occupied  by  the  Auditorium,  but 
I  hardly  think  he  did  so  to  escape  the  brethren  and 
sisters. 

H.  0.  Stone,  the  energetic  merchant  and  real  estate 
operator  of  later  times,  spent  the  first  winter  he  was 
here  gladly  "looking  over  the  ground,"  with  an  ax 
in  his  hand,  for  the  modest  emolument  of, $16  a 
month  and  such  board  and  lodging  as  woodmen's 
camps  usually  furnish;  and  I  doubt  not  he  ate  as 
heartily  and  slept  as  soundly  as  he  did  in  his  more 
luxuriant  life  of  later  years.  But  of  such  material 
were  many  of  Chicago's  most  prosperous  and  success- 
ful men  made. 

H.  O.  Stone  could  not  pride  himself  on  his  schol- 
arly attainments;  and  it  was  greatly  to  our  friend's 
credit  that  he  achieved  what  he  did,  and  made  such 
use  of  the  opportunities  that  presented  themselves 
as  to  become  the  refined  gentleman  which  he  was 
in  after  years.  He  was  gifted  with  such  traits  of 
character  as  enabled  him  to  surmount  the  obstacles, 
which  a  lack  of  early  advantages  placed  in  his  way, 
and  to  win  an  enviable  position  at  the  front  beside 
the  most  highly  accomplished  and  favored  of  his 
townsmen. 

William  Jones  of  the  firm  of  King,  Jones  &  Co.,  who 
had  been  chief  of  police  in  Buffalo,  came  here  in  1831. 
In  1832  he  purchased  two  of  the  Canal  lots  on  Lake 
street  but  did  not  remain  here  permanently  until  a 
year  previous  to  the  arrival  of  his  family.  For  many 


152  EARLY  CHICAGO 

years  he  was  one  of  our  leading  citizens,  who  were 
almost  invariably  members  of  the  early  Fire  Depart- 
ment. Mr.  Jones  was  a  member,  and  although  a 
large,  heavy  man,  he  was  the  1st  Assistant  Engineer 
of  Hook  and  Ladder  Company  No.  1.  Yet  it  would 
require  a  great  amount  of  faith  to  induce  him  to  try 
to  reach  the  top  round  of  the  ladder.  When  he 
grew  too  stout  for  that  exalted  position  he  became 
Fire  Warden,  and  you  could  depend  upon  his  presence 
with  his  staff  of  office,  even  if  he  could  not  sprint 
so  fast  as  some  of  the  lighter  weights. 

He  was  also  School  Director  for  many  years.  I 
can  see  him  now,  entering  the  noisy  room  with  W.  H. 
Brown  and  J.  Y.  Scammon,  when  the  sudden  stillness 
would- become  positively  painful  to  the  boy  with  a 
big  spit-ball  in  his  mouth.  Neither  Brown  nor  Jones 
was  such  a  terror  to  us  as  was  Scammon.  He  had  a 
way  about  him  that  made  mischievous  scholars  feel 
uncomfortable  in  his  presence.  He  was  continually 
asking  us  questions,  which  was  of  course  a  very  im- 
pertinent thing  for  him  to  do,  and  something  we  neither 
favored  nor  enjoyed.  The  two  others  would  talk  to 
the  teachers,  which  we  did  not  object  to,  as  it  post- 
poned our  recitations.  As  there  were  no  emoluments 
attached  to  the  office,  I  rejoice  that  each  of  these 
gentlemen  has  a  fine  school  named  after  him. 

Kyler  K.  Jones,  who  figured  largely  in  our  early 
history,  weighing  about  three  hundred  pounds,  and 
Fernando,  whose  figures  can  be  traced  on  almost  every 
page  of  it,  he  being  in  the  abstract  business,  were 


THE  EARLIEST  SETTLERS  153 

sons  of  William  Jones.  Byram  King,  partner  in  the 
firm,  was  his  son-in-law. 

The  "Co."  of  the  hardware  concern  was  Henry  B. 
Clark,  a  typical  pioneer,  who  could  not  brook  the 
narrow  confines  of  even  a  frontier  village,  but  felt 
that  the  wide  sweep  of  lake  and  prairie  in  the  remote 
southern  part  of  the  town  would  be  more  congenial 
to  his  taste.  There,  far  removed  from  every  evidence 
of  civilization,  save  when  the  fall  fires  or  the  winter 
snows  leveled  the  luxuriant  rosinweed  and  exposed 
to  his  view  the  town  or  the  distant  cabin  of  Dr.  H. 
Harmon,  he  built  his  log  abode,  which  was  nearly 
hidden  by  the  wild  sunflowers  that  flecked  the  bound- 
less prairies  and  the  scrubby  trees  that  drew  their 
meagre  sustenance  from  the  drifting  sands  of  the 
bleak  lake  shore.  In  the  course  of  time  the  city  found 
him,  with  his  children  grown  up  and  his  cabin  as  well; 
and  when  the  vain  North  Siders  would  boast  of  Will- 
iam B.  Ogden's  grand  white  mansion  with  its  lofty 
porticoes  supported  by  massive  Corinthian  columns, 
occupying  an  entire  block  surrounded  by  magnificent 
trees,  with  equal  pride  would  the  South  Siders  point 
to  its  beautiful  counterpart  on  Wabash  avenue  and 
18th  street,  the  home  of  the  former  South  Water  street 
hardware  merchant. 

Mr.  Jones  retired  from  the  hardware  business  and 
gave  his  attention  to  real  estate,  mostly  his  own, 
filling  also  the  office  of  Justice  of  the  Peace.  He 
passed  away  on  January  8,  1868.  In  his  will  he 
appointed  his  son,  Louis,  Mr.  Burnham  and  my- 


154  EARLY  CHICAGO 

self    trustees     for    his    grandson,    William    Jones 
King. 

I  have  frequently  chaffed  our  historic  friend,  Fer- 
nando Jones,  by  claiming  that  I  arrived  in  Chicago 
one  day  before  he  did.  He  has  always  contended 
that  he  remained  on  the  boat  one  day  longer  than  the 
rest  in  order  that  he  might  celebrate  two  important 
events  at  one  time. 

It  has  been  a  question  with  me,  however, 
whether  his  approaching  15th  birthday,  the  fear  of 
the  Indians  or  the  charms  of  a  young  lady  on  the 
brig  caused  him  to  tarry  another  day  in  spite  of  Jack 
Wagstaff's  warning  of  the  approaching  storm.  It 
is  the- duty  of  the  historian  to  sift  his  evidence  and  to 
record  what  he  considers  to  be  the  truth.  But  as  I 
do  not  claim  to  be  writing  history  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  word,  I  shall  merely  state  my  reasons 
for  not  believing  that  he  was  afraid  of  the  Indians,  and 
there  let  the  matter  rest. 

Many  of  us  have  seen  that  highly  colored  painting 
of  Chicago  in  1832,  (three  years  before  Fernando 
came),  in  which  an  Indian  maiden  is  paddling  a  canoe, 
on  the  South  Branch,  containing  a  young  man,  and 
we  naturally  surmised  that  the  young  man  was  some 
buck  of  about  her  own  age,  as  the  original  sketch 
would  indicate;  but  looking  at  one  of  those  pictures 
with  Fernando  a  few  years  ago,  he  assured  me  that 
the  man  was  not  a  buck  at  all,  but  himself,  and  that 
the  fair  maiden  was  *Theresa,  the  daughter  of  Joseph 
Laframboise,  the  trader.  Now  if  our  historian 

*Theresa  afterwards  became  the  wife  of  Thomas  Watkins — Hogan's  P.  O. 
assistant,— who  went  west  with  the  Pottawattomies. 


THE  EARLIEST  SETTLERS  155 

would  allow  himself  to  be  paddled  about  alone  by 
an  Indian  maiden  in  a  birch  bark  canoe  three  years 
before  he  came  here,  fear  of  the  Indians,  when  he  did 
come,  would  not  have  detained  him,  especially  when 
his  young  cousin  was  crying  to  see  him. 

Fernando  and  the  young  cousin,  Lou,  are  still  in 
"this  vale  of  tears." 


CHAPTER   XII 

EARLY  SETTLERS 

Charley  Chapman,  or  "Lying  Charley/'*  as  he 
was  usually  called,  was  an  historic  character,  as  was 
his  elder  friend,  Cady,  who  was  one  of  his  tenants,  of 
whom  he  had  a  number.  He  was  inclined  to  build 
houses  and  stores  for  which  there  was  a  big  demand 
at  good  rentals.  His  indulgence  in  a  great  many 
potations  each  day  made  him  look  like  a  mass  of 
animated  putty.  But  he  was  not  altogether  a  bad 
man,  being  liberal  when  a  cause  appealed  to  his 
naturally  generous  impulses. 

And  he  had  kindlier  feeling, 
Would  sweeter  deeds  perform, 

Than  some  in  public  kneeling 
Who  prayed  for  his  reform. 

Chapman  and  Cady  were  the  twin  liars  of  our  early 
days,  with  none  such  to  follow  them. 

When  Beaubien  and  Robinson  lived  out  on  the 
Desplaines  river,  they  had  as  a  neighbor  a  farmer 
by  the  name  of  John  Everett,  who  was  quite  a  char- 

*  This  Charlie  was  a  liar  quaint,  of  well  deserved  renown, 

One  only  peer  had  he  to  tear  in  all  our  virgin  town, 

He  dearly  loved  his  lies  to  spring,  and  sprung  them  very  well, 

And  when  we  thought  we  had  him  caught,  he  other  lies  would  tell. 

But  Cady  was  the  sort  of  man  Ananias  might  admire, 

Unless  so  far  above  that  star,  he  envy  might  inspire; 

He  all  alone  with  his  good  wife  for  many  years  had  dwelt, 

She  had  been  ill,  and  Doctor  Pill  asked  Cady  how  she  felt; 

Though  heart  oppressed,  he  truth  suppressed:  "Quite  well,"  the  old  man 

said, 

But  when  he  reached  his  home  again,  he  found  the  good  dame  dead. 
157 


158  EARLY  CHICAGO 

acter,  usually  holding  some  office  in  addition  to  the 
handles  of  his  plow,  such  as  court  bailiff,  constable 
or  other  equally  remunerative  and  comfortable  posi- 
tion. He  was  popular  in  the  farming  community 
where  he  resided,  and  his  influence  was  solicited  by 
those  aspiring  to  office. 

John  did  not  belong  to  the  Chapman  and  Cady  set 
but  he  was  a  great  wag,  fond  of  practical  jokes  and 
the  truth  was  more  apt  to  stretch  than  to  shrink 
when  he  told  a  story,  especially  if  he  was  the  inventor. 

When  Isaac  N.  Arnold  desired  to  represent  his 
fellow  citizens  in  the  State  Legislature  he  went  out  to 
Cazenovia  to  do  a  little  electioneering,  calling  on 
John  for  assistance.  Now  Arnold  was  extremely 
fastidious  in  his  dress,  and  on  going  out  to  visit  the 
farmers  he  made  a  little  extra  effort  to  present  a 
gentlemanly  appearance.  He  reached  John's  place 
as  if  he  had  stepped  out  of  the  proverbial  band  box, 
and  his  spruce  outfit  suggested  to  the  rough  husband- 
man the  idea  of  playing  one  of  his  numerous  jokes. 
Scanning  the  future  statesman  a  moment,  he  rolled 
his  quid  to  the  other  side  of  his  mouth,  drowned  a 
junebug  with  a  solution  of  Virginia  plug,  and  said: 
"Why  look  a  here,  Arnold!  You  don't  expect  to 
catch  votes  with  the  bait  you  have,  do  you?" 

"What  do  you  allude  to?"  asked  the  finical  attor- 
ney. "What  I  mean  is,  that  if  you  should  go  out 
among  the  farmers  with  your  toggery  on,  just  as  you 
are  now,  they  would  laugh  at  you." 

"  I  know  I  got  pretty  dusty  driving  out.  Permit 
me  to  go  to  the  house  and  I  will  wash  and  brush  up." 


EARLY  SETTLERS  159 

"Yes,  we'll  go  to  the  house  and  get  you  something 
to  wear.  If  I  ever  want  another  office,  I  wouldn't 
dare  let  the  boys  know  that  I  had  ever  been  acquained 
with  a  chap  that  wore  such  fine  store  clothes  as  you 
have  on.  I'm  a  good  deal  bigger  than  you  be,  but 
come  to  the  house  and  I'll  see  what  I  can  do  to  get 
you  out  of  this  bad  fix." 

Much  to  the  disgust  of  our  would  be  representa- 
tive he  had  to  don  one  of  John's  work-a-day  suits, 
and  then,  turning  up  the  bottoms  of  his  bagging 
trousers,  rolling  up  the  cuffs  of  his  mammoth  coat, 
strapping  over  his  Falstaffian  vest,  rolling  back  his 
red  flannel  shirt  at  the  neck,  putting  on  a  straw  hat 
that  covered  his  ears,  and  a  pair  of  stoga  boots,  either 
of  which  was  large  enough  for  both  feet,  he  went  forth 
an  abashed  vocal  scarecrow,  to  interview  and  address 
his  smiling  fellow  citizens. 

John  never  wearied  of  telling  of  the  fun  he  had 
with  the  aspiring  statesman  when  he  went  election- 
eering among  the  yeomanry. 

This  will  do  for  a  story,  like  so  many  of  those  which 
pass  current,  having  a  substratum  of  truth.  But 
this  particular  one  does  not  pass  with  Alexander 
Beaubien,  who  thinks  he  has  reason  to  doubt  its 
authenticity.  Mr.  Arnold,  in  time,  became  one  of  our 
most  distinguished  and  highly  esteemed  public  men. 

One  of  the  most  useful,  important  and  worthy 
members  of  our  little  community  was  Col.  Richard 
J.  Hamilton,  who  came  here  from  Kentucky  in  1831. 
We  wondered  whether  he  had  not,  unintentionally 
of  course,  set  a  pernicious  example  to  the  struggling 


160  EARLY  CHICAGO 

settlers  by  stimulating  those  less  able  than  himself 
to  undertake  so  many  offices  as  he  so  easily  held. 

The  happy  Colonel,  being  a  genuine  Democrat 
from  the  blue  grass  region,  was  well  qualified  by 
nature,  education,  taste  and  experience  to  take  any- 
thing that  came  along.  I  am  not  now  referring  to 
the  tempting  list  of  drinks  we  saw  in  the  bar  room 
of  the  Green  Tree,  where  we  first  met  him;  for  know- 
ing his  birth  place,  I  am  pretty  certain  that  only  one 
would  tempt  him,  and  that  not  very  often.  I  allude 
to  the  fact  that  he  held,  with  honor  to  himself  and 
with  satisfaction  to  the  public,  about  all  the  public 
offices  then  known,  and  others  as  soon  as  they  were 
established.  These  included  the  offices  of  County 
Recorder,  County  Clerk,  Clerk  of  the  Circuit  Court 
of  Northern  Illinois,  Judge  of  Probate  Court,  County 
Treasurer,  School  Commissioner,  besides  being  a 
practicing  lawyer. 

As  soon  as  he  could  educate  other  worthy  friends 
of  his  own  political  persuasion  to  fill  in  a  satisfactory 
manner  the  positions  he  was  burdened  with,  he 
cheerfully  relinquished  them  to  his  followers. 

The  Colonel  was  the  father  of  my  old  school  mates, 
Dick  and  his  charming  sister,  Eleanor  (Diana).  If 
you  will  promise  not  to  get  out  your  pencil  to  figure 
her  age,  I  will  tell  you,  Mrs.  Keenan  was  born  in  Fort 
Dearborn,  February  14, 1832.  Should  she  say  1852, 
her  appearance  would  confirm  her  statement. 

But  any  one  acquainted  with  the  keen,  dark  eyed, 
bright,  intelligent,  nervous  tempered,  happy  disposi- 
tioned  gentleman  would  realize  that  the  much  hon- 


EARLY  SETTLERS  161 

ored  office  holder  never  knew  he  had  a  stomach,  and 
that  there  was  nothing  in  his  constitution  out  of 
which  a  dyspeptic  could  be  made. 

But  while  he  could  easily  discharge  all  the  onerous 
duties  forced  upon  him  by  his  happy  qualifications 
and  superb  health,  ever  remaining  the  jovial,  hail 
fellow  with  everyone,  but  few  could  so  many  re- 
sponsible positions  as  he  did. 

The  widowed  mother  of  Judge  Tuley  became  the 
Colonel's  second  wife. 

It  is  singular,  when  you  come  to  reflect  upon  it, 
what  a  whimsical  thing  fame  is  and  upon  what  slight 
things  it  hinges.  I  am  led  to  this  reflection  by  recall- 
ing the  case  of  Elijah  Wentworth,  the  "Old  Geese" 
of  the  Wolf  Point  tavern.  Years  after  he  had  left  the 
Point,  when  he  was  keeping  a  hotel  at  Jefferson,  he 
used  to  purchase  meat  from  father.  A  few  minutes 
in  his  presence  explained  the  soubriquet  of  "Old 
Geese."  "By  Geese!"  "The  Geese  you  say!" 
"You  can't  geese  me!"  and  similar  expressions 
were  on  his  lips  all  the  time.  Had  he  employed  the 
customary  oaths  he  would  have  been  swallowed  up  in 
the  crowd,  but  by  his  eccentricity  in  calling  upon  the 
white  sentinels  that  saved  the  Imperial  City  he  also 
has  been  saved  from  swift  oblivion. 

Hiram  Pearson,  who  was  a  house  painter  in  the  early 
thirties,  went  in  for  real  estate  and  was  quite  success- 
ful in  his  operations.  In  1834  he  was  severely  cen- 
sured by  the  people  of  the  community  for  taking  ad- 
vantage of  a  German  immigrant  by  selling  him  eighty 
acres  south  of  22d  street,  west  of  State  for  $55  per 


162  EARLY  CHICAGO 

acre.  Pearson  rose  high  on  the  tide  of  prosperity 
but  it  left  him  stranded. 

I  have  before  me  an  address  delivered  by  Judge 
Bradwell  to  his  old  Schaumberg  neighbors  in  which 
he  gives  a  graphic  and  sad  story  of  what  noble  men 
and  women  were  called  upon  to  endure.  He  says: 
"We  came  in  the  spring  of  1834  and  lived  in  a  log 
house  on  the  west  side  of  the  Aux  Plaines  river,  where 
the  old  town  of  Wheeling  now  stands,  twenty  miles 
from  Chicago.  For  years  we  suffered  many  priva- 
tions. In  the  winter,  when  father  was  laid  up  for 
weeks  with  sickness,  and  we  had  not  been  able  to  husk 
the  corn  earlier,  I  have  known  my  mother  to  spend 
days  in  the  snow  husking  corn,  which  we  would  shell 
and  break  up  in  a  mortar  made  in  the  end  of  an  iron- 
wood  log,  using  an  iron*  wedge  as  a  pestle.  We 
afterwards  got  a  coffee  mill  in  which  to  grind  the  corn, 
which  was  a  great  improvement.  *  *  *  * 
*  *  I  rode  to  what  is  now  Elk  Grove  to  sum- 
mon Dr.  Miner.  There  were  no  roads  or  bridges 
across  the  sloughs,  and  sometimes,  when  he  was  de- 
tained until  dark,  we  would  have  to  set  the  prairie  on 
fire  so  that  he  could  get  his  course  and  make  Elk 
Grove.  Well  do  I  remember  over  fifty  years  ago 
traveling  home  after  a  yoke  of  bulls.  My  father  said 
to  me, '  Jim,  you  have  been  a  good  boy  in  the  harvest 
field;  hitch  up  the  bulls  to  the  cart,  take  a  load  of 
wheat  to  Chicago  and  buy  you  Blackstone,  and 
Chitty's  pleadings.' 

"  I  went  dressed  in  what  they  called  a  calico  wamus 
and  a  pair  of  calico  pants.  When  I  got  to  Chicago 


EARLY  SETTLERS  163 

the  seat  of  my  pants  gave  out  and  when  I  went  into 
the  store  to  buy  a  few  knick-knacks  for  mother  I  had 
to  button  the  old  wamus  and  stand  perfectly  straight. 
I  had  an  old  German  blacksmith  by  the  name  of  Fry 
with  me,  and  returning  home  I  sat  down  in  the  bottom 
of  the  cart  and  let  him  drive,  and  the  chapters  I  read 
in  Blackstone  and  Chitty  then  I  have  never  forgotten. 
When  I  got  out  on  the  road  as  far  as  Higgins'  my 
pants  had  so  given  out  that  I  could  not  get  out  for 
supper,  which  I  ate  sitting  in  the  bottom  of  the  cart." 

On  the  18th  of  May,  1852,  Myra  Colby,  a  Schaum- 
berg  girl,  became  Myra  Bradwell.  Myra  Colby 
taught  school  in  Schaumberg  before  it  was  a  town. 
The  school  officer  who  examined  her  and  gave  her 
a  certificate  to  teach  was  Francis  A.  Hoffman,  then 
a  minister  of  the  gospel  stationed  in  Schaumberg. 
He  preached  the  gospel  on  Sundays  and  on  week  days 
loaned  money  to  the  Germans,  helping  them  to  buy 
their  lands  and  settle  the  town.  Mr.  Hoffman  re- 
moved to  Chicago  and  was  admitted  to  the  Illinois 
bar  in  1852,  and  afterwards  became  Lieutenant  Gov- 
ernor of  the  State. 

This  Schaumberg  girl  was  the  first  woman  in 
the  United  States  to  apply  for  admission  to  the  bar. 
Her  application  was  the  first  serious  attempt  on  the 
part  of  a  woman  to  share  the  labors  of  the  law  since 
the  fourteenth  century.  In  1856  she  published  the 
first  legal  weekly  paper  in  the  Western  States.  She 
secured  the  passage  of  several  laws  securing  rights  to 
women,  and  filled  many  important  offices  in  charitable 
work,  How  true  is  the  inscription  on  her  monument 


164  EARLY  CHICAGO 

in  Rose  Hill:  "What  Myra  Colby  did  for  humanity 
and  for  the  equality  of  man  and  woman  before  the 
law  will  be  fresh  in  the  memory  of  generations  yet  to 
come  when  the  monument  erected  to  her  memory 
will  have  perished  and  been  forgotten." 

Her  husband  was  the  first  judge  who  affirmed  and 
acknowledged  the  validity  of  marriage  between 
slaves. 

The  grocery  store  of  Joseph  Gray  was  the  original 
Club  of  Chicago.  I  should  not  be  doing  justice  to  a 
noble,  honest  man,  nor  round  out  the  history  of  those 
days,  if  I  left  unchronicled  the  wit,  geniality,  the 
the  information  on  current  events,  the  scholarship 
and  the  versatility  which  made  his  store  the  centre 
of  attraction  for  the  most  prominent  men  of  the  place. 
Mr.  Gray  was  related  to  both  my  wife  and  myself, 
hence  my  thorough  acquaintance  with  him.  Landing 
in  Chicago  from  the  schooner  "  Julia  Palmer, "  July  16, 
1836,  he  first  opened  a  dry  goods  and  grocery  store 
on  the  north  side  of  Lake  street,  four  doors  west  of 
Clark.  Going  back  to  Boston  shortly  afterward,  he 
returned  again  that  same  fall  and  opened  a  grocery 
store  on  the  southwest  corner  of  Water  and  State. 
In  1838  he  became  a  farmer  near  Belvidere,  which 
calling  he  followed  for  three  years,  when  he  opened 
his  historical  family  grocery  store  where  the  Ashland 
block  now  stands.  He  afterwards  served  the  public 
faithfully  and  wisely  as  Water  Commissioner,  Alder- 
man, Supervisor,  Justice  of  the  Peace,  Assessor,  and 
for  18  years,  up  to  1872,  was  Secretary  of  the  Board 
of  Guardians  of  the  Chicago  Reform  School,  at  which 


EARLY  SETTTLERS  165 

time  the  institution  closed.  He  passed  away  Jan- 
uary 14,  1900,  at  the  age  of  88,  leaving  a  widow,  who 
survived  him  but  a  few  weeks,  a  son  and  daughter, 
and  a  name  that  will  ever  be  cherished  by  those  who 
knew  him. 

A  few  more  words  regarding  the  early  day  firm  of 
Pruyne  and  Kimberley.  Peter  Pruyne  was  an  active 
and  highly  respected  member  of  the  community,  who 
took  a  lively  interest  in  everything  pertaining  to  the 
welfare  of  the  place.  He  was  one  of  the  first  direct- 
ors of  the  Branch  of  the  State  Bank  of  Illinois. 
Whether  he  was  engaged  as  a  member  of  the  fire 
department,  as  a  state  senator,  or  in  the  more  respon- 
sible calling  of  a  compounder  of  medicine,  he  was  an 
indefatigable  worker,  and  brought  to  his  task  an 
honest,  commendable  pride  in  succeeding. 

The  firm  having  failed,  his  partner  Dr.  Edmund 
S.  Kimberly  opened  an  office  near  the  Tremont  for 
the  practice  of  his  profession.  He  was  a  tall,  slender, 
dignified  gentleman,  one  of  the  old  school  of  courtly, 
kind  hearted  practitioners,  ever  responding  as  readily 
to  the  call  of  the  poor  and  obscure  as  to  the  wealthiest 
and  most  prominent.  Glasses  were  not  so  commonly 
worn  then  as  at  present,  and  his  gold-rimmed  spec- 
tacles always  seemed  to  add  to  the  confidence  his 
patients  reposed  in  him.  He  was  our  family  phy- 
sician as  long  as  he  continued  to  practice  here. 

The  doctor,  like  most  true  Democrats,  was  decidedly 
public  spirited,  and  if  professional  duties  did  not  in- 
terfere he  was  usually  to  be  found  at  important  public 
meetings.  He  was  clerk  at  the  gathering  to  decide 


166  EARLY  CHICAGO 

whether  Chicago  should  be  incorporated  as  a  Town, 
voted  for  the  measure  and  was  elected  in  August, 
1833,  as  one  of  the  first  Trustees  of  the  Town. 
In  '48,  '49,  '50  he  was  President  of  the  Board  of 
School  Directors.  He  was  one  of  the  promoters  and 
first  Trustees  of  the  Rush  Medical  College,  founded 
in  1837.  His  sons  must  have  honestly  inherited 
their  spirit  of  patriotism,  for  their  talented  mother 
was  lacking  no  more  than  their  father  in  that  com- 
mendable sentiment. 

No  wonder  that,  with  such  parents,  Jack  enlisted  in 
Captain  Bill's  Company  of  Volunteers  and  served  with 
distinction  through  the  Mexican  War,  and  that  his 
brother,  Louis,  became  a  gallant  Admiral.  John,  for 
many  years,  held  an  important  position  in  the  Chicago 
Post  Office,  which  he  retained  up  to  the  time  of  his 
death.  I  well  remember  the  reports  of  the  fandangos 
he  attended  while  in  Mexico,  graphic  descriptions  of 
which  his  brilliant  mother  gave  at  the  time  in  my 
presence.  Jack  was  evidently  on  good  terms  with 
the  dark  eyed  senoritas,  even  while  he  felt  it  was  his 
duty,  as  an  American  soldier,  to  shoot  the  senores, 
whom  they  loved. 

After  retiring  from  practice,  the  Doctor  removed 
to  Lake  Zurich,  where  his  declining  years  were  spent 
in  the  happy  consciousness  of  having  served  well  his 
brother  man. 

John  Bates  and  J.  H.  Marshall  were  auctioneers  for 
the  canal  commissioners.  Johnny  Bates  could  sell 
anything  from  a  canal  lot  to  a  lot  of  cracked  pitchers, 
and  sell  his  customers,  too,  if  he  really  set  about  it, 


EARLY  SETTLERS  167 

which  he  would  sometimes  do  merely  for  the  fun  of  the 
thing.  He  was  a  very  short  man,  but  had  the  happy 
gift  of  being  able  to  look  over  the  head  of  a  six-footer 
and  catch  the  eye  of  a  five-foot  chap  behind  him,  in 
order  to  raise  the  giant's  bid. 

Every  old  settler  knew  little  Jimmy  Marshall, 
though  few  were  aware  that  he  was  a  physician  by 
profession,  and  a  dancing  master  by  calling,  in  1834. 
Always  carefully  groomed,  he  was  to  be  seen  in  his 
silk  hat,  black  frock  coat,  dark  trousers,  well  polished 
boots  and  immaculate  shirt  bosom.  He  was  at  all 
times  ready  to  trip  the  light  fantastic;  and  he  tripped 
it,  too.  How  that  nimble  little  figure  would  wind 
through  the  mazes  of  Money  Musk  or  the  rollicking 
Virginia  Reel!  Those  were  dances  that  made  his 
black  eyes  shine  with  a  brighter  luster  than  the  dia- 
mond he  so  much  admired.  Elderly  people  forgot 
their  rheumatism  when  they  saw  Jimmy  Marshall 
and  Enos  Ayres  in  these  old  fashioned  contra  dances. 
There  was  no  gliding  with  listless  motion  then.  They 
danced,  they  did,  and  their  light  footed  enthusiasm 
was  so  contagious  that  Premonitory  Gout  and  Old 
Rheumatiz  were  soon  making  the  dust  fly  in  every 
quarter  of  the  ball  room. 

When  selling  goods,  Marshall's  limber  tongue 
moved  as  fast  as  his  nimble  feet  in  a  double  shuffle. 
I  yet  seem  to  hear  his  "  two  an'  a  ha'f ,  an'  a  ha'f,  an'  a 
ha'f,  an'  a  ha'f,  make  it  three,  three,  do  I  hear?  any 
more  than  three,  three  an'  a  ha'f,  an'  a  ha'f,  an'  a  ha'f 
I'm  bid,  make  it  four,"  and  so  on  until  knocked  down. 
We  shall  never  forget  him  as  long  as  the  red  flag  flies. 


168  EARLY  CHICAGO 

He  was  a  great  boy  to  raise  a  Hoosier  on  his  own  bid. 
It  was  better  than  a  three  ring  circus  to  watch  him 
do  it.  The  store  is  full.  Marshall  displays  a  bright 
red  bandanna,  which  it  would  be  unsafe  to  show  in 
certain  pastures.  It  takes  Lanky 's  eye.  He  is  bound 
to  have  that  "hankercher"  and  starts  in  at  "two 
bits."  Soon  there  is  plenty  of  excitement.  Marshall 
nodding  at  the  other  end  of  the  counter,  comes  back 
with  "three  bits."  Lanky  makes  it  four.  Mar- 
shall's eye  takes  in  the  other  side  of  the  room  and  he 
comes  back  with  a  "five  bits!"  Lanky  gets  red  in 
the.  face  and  is  bound  "  the  other  feller  sha'nt  get  it, " 
though  there  is  "no  other  feller,"  and  shouts,  "six 
bits!"  The  crowd,  admiring  his  spunk,  shouts, 
"Bully  for  you!"  The  auctioneer  gazes  along  the 
rows  of  smiling  faces  until  he  reaches  the  one  now 
redder  than  the  handkerchief,  in  doing  which  he 
catches  a  suppositious  "seven  bits,"  when,  with 
beads  of  perspiration  streaming  down  his  sunburnt 
cheeks,  Lanky  yells  "one  dollar!"  pays  it  and  pockets 
his  ten  cent  purchase. 

The  impossibility  of  obtaining  other  lodgings  in 
Chicago  caused  Tuthill  King,  our  first  clothing  mer- 
chant to  seek  the  shelter  of  our  attic  in  1835.  Here  he 
brought  his  bride  and  they  occupied  it  for  some  time ; 
and  in  after  years,  when  he  became  quite  wealthy, 
living  in  Terrace  Row,  one  of  the  finest  residence 
blocks  in  the  city,  they  had  many  a  hearty  laugh 
with  my  people  over  the  delightful  honeymoon  spent 
in  their  simple  quarters.  And  I  have  heard  them 
declare  that  "they  had  more  pure  enjoyment  start- 


EARLY  SETTLERS  169 

ing  on  life's  journey  together  in  that  primitive  man- 
ner than  ever  afterward." 

On  one  occasion,  when  Mr.  King  had  just  returned 
from  New  York,  father  inquired  how  business  was  in 
the  metropolis.  He  replied:  "Every  one  is  complain- 
ing of  hard  times."  A  Hoosier,  who  was  making  a 
purchase,  wanted  to  know  where  "Metropolis"  was. 

"About  a  thousand  miles  from  here,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  lank  son  of  the  Wabash,  with 
a  sneer,  "they'd  orter  hev  hard  times  thur.  They 
is  too  fur  from  Chicago." 

Among  Mr.  King's  clerks  was  his  brother,  Nathaniel. 
What  Nat  did  not  know  about  selling  clothes  no  one 
could  teach  him.  If  he  had  an  old  shopkeeper  that 
he  made  up  his  mind  should  be  sold,  the  first  Hoosier 
sauntering  along  the  street  had  to  walk  in  and  take  it 
whether  he  wanted  it  or  not.  Nat  never  hinted  to 
his  customer  that  there  was  a  cracked  mirror  one  foot 
by  two  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  store  to  demonstrate 
how  well  he  looked  in  the  faded  rag;  he  would  rather 
trust  to  his  tongue  than  to  the  eyes  of  the  reluctant 
purchaser.  His  rattling  talk  would  swamp  the  poor 
fellow's  judgment.  It  fitted  him  "like  the  paper 
on  the  wall."  If  he  complained  that  it  seemed 
altogether  too  small,  "  the  first  rain  would  stretch  it. " 
If  too  large,  "  the  first  rain  would  shrink  it." 

Gholson  Kercheval  was  a  clerk  for  Robert  A. 
Kinzie,  engaged  on  the  Point  in  the  regulation  In- 
dian trade,  in  which  his  elder  brother,  Lewis  C.  Ker- 
cheval, seemed  to  take  more  interest  than  the  proprie- 


170  EARLY  CHICAGO 

tor  himself,  judging  from  the  time  he  spent  there.  Ghol- 
son  drifted  into  a  variety  of  occupations,  remaining 
longer  in  the  real  estate,  probably  than  in  any  other. 

Lewis  C.  Kercheval  became  a  prominent  figure  in 
our  ambitious  village.  As  I  recall  that  smooth, 
stern  faced  man  with  short,  straight  gray,  hair  and 
tall  commanding  figure  advantageously  set  off  in  a 
well-fitting,Websterian  blue  coat  with  large  brass  but- 
tons, moving  among  us  with  erect  carriage  (es- 
pecially after  he  became  President  of  the  Washing- 
toman  Society),  with  slow  step  and  precise  dignity, 
conscious  that  he  was  Colonel  by  courtesy,  Justice 
of  the  Peace  by  the  votes  of  his  fellow  citizens  and 
Inspector  of  the  Port  by  the  friendship  of  Old  Hickory, 
it  is  hard  to  realize  that  this  was  the  same  person  who 
was  so  much  interested  years  before  at  that  insignifi- 
cant trading  cabin,  in  the  patronage  of  beaded  squaws 
and  painted  bucks.  The  Colonel  finally  became  a 
citizen  of  San  Francisco. 

No  one  will  ever  know  how  much  the  early  settlers 
were  indebted  to  Capt.  L.  C.  Hugunin  for  averting  the 
horrors  of  Indian  warfare.  Few  chief;:  or  white  men 
possessed  so  great  an  influence  over  the  Indians  as 
he  did.  He  mingled  with  them  and  freely  indulged 
with  them  in  their  sports,  hunting,  trapping  and 
fishing,  in  all  of  which  he  was  very  proficient,  which 
increased  their  admiration.  He  lost  one  arm  in  duck 
hunting,  but  still  continued  to  be  an  inveterate  hun- 
ter, having  few  equals  and  probably  not  a  superior 
in  shooting  on  the  wing.  I  have  frequently  seen  him 
and  Richard  L.  Wilson,  likewise  an  excellent  shot, 


EARLY  SETTLERS  171 

return  from  a  day's  sport  with  their  buggy  well 
loaded  with  prairie  chickens  they  had  shot  within 
the  present  city  limits.  This  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
Dick  was  as  badly  demoralized  as  Hugunin,  from  the 
explosion  of  a  cannon,  which  he  was  firing  to  celebrate 
the  Buena  Vista  victory,  while  he  was  editor  of 
the  Chicago  Journal  of  that  time. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

OTHER  EARLY  SETTLERS 

"The  smith,  a  mighty  man  is  he, 

With  large  and  sinewy  hands; 
The  muscles  of  his  brawny  arms 
Are  strong  as  iron  bands." 

When  Longfellow  wrote  his  beautiful  poem  he 
might  have  had  in  mind  our  village  blacksmith, 
Seth  P.  Warner,  a  mighty  man,  truly.  His  wife  was 
a  little  woman  and  an  excellent  cook,  who  declared 
that  "she  could  never  conceal  a  pie  or  cake  she  had 
prepared  for  invited  company  but  Mr.  Warner  would 
demonstrate  that  he  could  make  a  pretty  good  guess 
where  it  was  to  be  found."  Mr.  Warner  sang  in  the 
Presbyterian  choir,  which  may  have  suggested  the 
idea  of  his  teaching  singing  to  Wilson's  scholars, 
beating  time  for  us  when  not  beating  the  anvil. 

"  Week  in,  week  out,  from  morn  to  night, 

You  could  hear  his  bellows  blow; 
You  could  hear  him  swing  his  heavy  sledge 

With  measured  beat  and  slow, 
Like  a  sexton  ringing  the  village  bell 

When  the  evening  sun  is  low." 

In  course  of  time  he  accumulated  enough  to  build 
Warner's  Hall  on  the  same  ground,  and  it  was  the 
best  in  the  city  for  public  entertainments,  even  if  we 
had  to  climb  two  flights  of  stairs  to  reach  the  audience 

173 


174  EARLY  CHICAGO 

room.  After  retiring  from  his  life  of  honorable  toil, 
Mr.  Warner  spent  many  happy  years  at  his  home  in 
Austin. 

Alexander  White,  the  thrifty  Scotch  painter, 
glazier  and  paper  hanger,  who  had  a  sign  of  a  man 
squeezing  through  the  world,  finally  moved  to  165 
Lake  street,  next  door  to  us,  where  he  remained  in 
business  longer  than  was  necessary,  being  ultimately 
a  large  dealer  in  paints,  oils,  window  glass,  etc.  Even 
as  I  write  I  seem  to  hear  his  young  man,  John  Gilles- 
pie,  heavily  pounding  the  whiting  and  linseed  oil 
together  for  the  all  important  article  of  putty.  How 
differently  everything  is  done  to-day! 

In  spite  of  his  sign,  our  friend  managed  to  "  squeeze 
through  the  world"  in  most  excellent  shape.  He 
seemed  to  develop  on  a  higher  plane  when  his  mind 
was  no  longer  engrossed  in  business  matters.  Having 
an  eye  for  the  beautiful,  he  made  a  study  of  art, 
traveled  extensively,  and  purchased  with  good 
judgment  many  gems  of  the  old  world,  with  which 
he  enriched  his  beautiful  home  at  Lake  Forest.  His 
selections  were  much  admired,  and  he  was  frequently 
commissioned  by  the  wealthy  to  purchase  and  import 
for  them  rare  and  valuable  works  of  celebrated  artists. 
He  died  on  March  18,  1872,  at  the  age  of  fifty-seven. 

R.  K  Swift  was  one  of  our  early  bankers.  He 
seemed  to  study  how  to  do  good  without  being  caught 
in  the  act.  Father  was  accustomed  to  receive  the 
church  offerings  on  Sunday.  In  them  was  always 
a  quill  toothpick.  Invariably  the  next  morning 


OTHER  EARLY  SETTLERS  175 

Swift  would  stop  in  the  store  and  redeem  the  tooth- 
pick for  $5.  One  morning  he  saluted  father  with — 
"Well,  Gale, you  have  to  keep  the  millinery  store  to 
get  the  money  to  run  that  farm  with,  haven't  you?" 
It  was  so  true  that  we  all  had  to  laugh  at  the  banker's 
comprehension  of  the  fact. 

Swift  was  very  eccentric,  though  kind  hearted 
and  extremely  benevolent.  He  never  liked  to  do 
things  as  others  did.  I  believe  this  to  be  the  cause 
of  his  failure.  When  the  run  on  his  bank  occurred, 
instead  of  taking  the  usual  time  for  his  regular  teller 
to  cash  the  checks  as  presented,  he  placed  extra  help 
for  that  purpose,  which  only  increased  the  excite- 
ment. The  other  bankers  did  not  approve  of  such 
a  course  and  declined  to  assist  him,  when  otherwise 
they  would  have  done  so. 

Once,  holding  a  mortgage  of  $200  on  a  carpenter's 
home,  the  owner  died.  Swift  was  not  the  kind  of  a 
man  to  foreclose  a  mortgage  under  such  circumstances, 
but  instead  of  giving  up  the  note  and  making  a  re- 
lease, some  one  placed  $200  in  gold  on  the  end  of  a 
stick  of  cord  wood  one  evening  rested  it  against  the 
widow's  door,  knocked  and  dodged  around  the  corner 
out  of  sight.  The  poor  widow  was  somewhat  startled 
when,  upon  opening  the  door,  the  wood  tumbled  in 
and  scattered  the  gold  on  the  floor.  No  one  told  her 
where  it  came  from,  and  when  she  went  the  next  day 
to  pay  the  mortgage  and  related  the  providential  cir- 
cumstance, the  brusque  banker  seemed  just  as  much 
surprised  as  she  was.  He  managed  so  to  arrange 


176  EARLY  CHICAGO 

matters  that  the  widow  could  take  good  care  of  and 
educate  her  daughters,  who  became  the  wives  of 
some  of  our  most  respected  citizens. 

B.  C.  Welch,  who  was  a  fine  performer  on  the  flute 
and  piccolo,  frequently  strolled  down  to  the  lake 
shore  when  a  young  man,  and  seating  himself  on  the 
Hydraulic  pier,  would  play  by  the  hour.  Close  by 
there  lived  a  few  Irish  families,  who,  with  their  friends, 
would  be  enjoying  the  music,  when,  after  playing 
many  of  Tom  Moore's  sweet  airs  on  his  flute,  with  the 
expression  that  only  an  impulsive,  warm  hearted, 
homesick  man  could  give,  Welch  would  suddenly  pick 
up  his  piccolo  and  give  his  hearers  some  rollicking 
pieces,  followed  by  an  Irish  jig,  which  would  soon 
bring  his  audience  to  their  feet.  Swift  was  then 
living  on  Michigan  avenue,  just  north  of  the  mill,  and 
being  attracted  by  the  piccolo,  made  Welch's  acquain- 
tance, and  finally  prevailed  upon  him  to  go  to  his 
house  and  play  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  piano. 
His  host  soon  got  himself  a  snare  and  a  bass  drum, 
which  he  would  play  until  the  perspiration  rolled  off 
of  his  face,  when  he  would  call  for  some  of  us  boys  to 
spell  him,  the  greatest  praise  following  our  loudest 
noise. 

Among  the  many  evolutions  of  his  originality,  I 
recall  one  concerning  an  Hibernian  client,  who  had 
been  many  years  in  this  country  and  had  accumu- 
lated considerable  money.  O'Rouke  concluded  to 
pay  a  visit  to  the  Emerald  Isle,  and  the  question  as 
to  how  he  should  be  identified  by  the  Irish  bankers, 
that  he  might  get  his  draft  cashed,  was  a  puzzler. 


OTHER  EARLY  SETTLERS  177 

But  Daguerre,  who  had  produced  his  first  daguereo- 
type  a  few  years  before  (August  1839),  came  to  the 
banker's  assistance.  He  had  himself  and  his  Hiber- 
nian friend  taken  on  one  plate ;  then  a  letter,  signed  by 
R.  K.  Swift,  stating  that  the  man  whose  likeness  ap- 
peared with  his  was  James  O'Rouke,  the  payee  of  a 
certain  specified  draft,  removed  all  difficulty  of  iden- 
tification. Bankers  do  not  resort  to  the  obsolute 
deguereotype  these  days. 

Swift  always  seemed  to  take  an  interest  in  me  and 
strongly  urged  me  to  learn  the  banking  business  with 
him,  making  me  very  flattering  offers.  We  did  business 
with  him  when  we  opened  the  store.  On  the  day 
when  the  bank  failed,  we  had  considerable  gold  to 
deposit,  but  the  receiving  teller  would  not  allow  as 
much  for  it  as  brother  Will  thought  he  should  have, 
so  he  went  out  and  sold  it  to  a  broker.  By  the  time 
he  got  back,  the  bank  was  closed  for  the  day  and 
never  again  opened. 

Before  his  failure,  Swift  was  very  much  interested 
in  the  Chicago  Light  Artillery,  of  which  he  was  cap- 
tain. The  company  furnished  twenty-two  officers 
for  the  Civil  War. 

I  mention  again  the  career  of  the  canny  Scotch 
bachelor,  broker  and  banker,  George  Smith,  who 
died  in  London  in  1899,  between  which  place  and 
his  beloved  Scotia  he  spent  the  most  of  his  time 
after  leaving  Chicago,  where  he  amassed  the 
nucleus  of  a  phenomenal  fortune,  judging  by  the 
following,  taken  from  a  New  York  paper  of  April  7, 
1900: 


178  EARLY  CHICAGO 

"GEORGE  SMITH'S  LARGE  ESTATE. 

"Comptroller  Coler  to-day  confirmed  a  report  that 
he,  as  agent  for  the  State  of  New  York,  has  collected 
$2,000,000  inheritance  tax  on  the  estate  of  the  late 
George  Smith,  who  died  in  London.  The  Comptrol- 
ler's share  for  making  the  collection  is  a  $20,000 
commission.  The  Government  of  Great  Britain 
collected  $4,500,000  inheritance  tax  from  the  estate, 
sufficient,  as  the  chancellor  of  the  exchecquer  said 
in  the  House  of  Commons  a  month  ago,  to  build  and 
equip  a  battleship."  I  do  not  know  how  much 
Chicago  received,  if  any;  but  it  would  be  a  good 
thing  if  some  just  means  could  be  devised  whereby 
any  city  which  enables  a  man  to  amass  such  a  colossal 
fortune  should  in  turn  be  the  recipient  of  some  of  his 
immense  wealth. 

Smith  came  here  first  in  1834,  and  believing  this  to 
a  good  point  in  which  to  invest  in  real  estate,  he  went 
back  to  Scotland  and  there  organized  the  Scottish 
Illinois  Land  Investment  Company.  A.  Scratchen 
and  W.  Scott  returned  with  him  as  managers  of  the 
enterprise  and  opened  an  office  on  the  southeast 
corner  of  Lake  and  Wells  streets,  in  1836.  This  office 
was  Smith's  headquarters,  and  soon  after  he  went  into 
the  banking  business. 

George  Davis,  who  came  here  from  England  in 
1833,  was  a  great  favorite  in  the  little  community. 
He  was  a  good  surveyor,  a  sweet  singer,  an  incompara- 
ble comrade  and  quite  an  adept  with  the  brush  and 
pencil.  To  him  we  are  indebted  for  a  number  of 


OTHER  EARLY  SETTLERS  179 

early  sketches  of  the  place,  which  are  still  in  ex- 
istence. George  was  a  black  eyed  young  man  with 
florid  complexion  and  curly  black  hair,  and  altogether 
of  such  prepossessing  appearance  that  he  would  set 
a  bevy  of  pretty  girls  to  whispering  at  first  sight. 
But  Davis,  like  the  Mohammedans,  turned  to  the 
east  to  worship,  marrying  Myra  D.  Wilcox  of  Detroit, 
in  1836.  He  passed  to  rest  January  4,  1858. 

Another  young  Englishman,  William  H.  Davis, 
instructed  some  of  our  people  how  to  trip  the  light  fan- 
tastic toe  at  the  New  York  House.  In  the  winter  of 
'40-'41  he  gave  at  the  Lake  House  a  series  of  Quadrille 
parties  and  instruction  in  dancing.  When  I  reached 
a  suitable  age  I  attended  his  academy  in  the  Matte- 
son  House  block.  Davis  having  the  force  of  character 
requisite  to  induce  him  to  go  so  far  from  home,  was 
not  content  to  remain  a  dancing  master  in  a  frontier 
town,  so  he  employed  his  spare  time  in  reading  law 
and  filling  such  public  offices  as  knocked  at  his  door. 
In  time  he  became  a  practitioner  under  the  firm 
name  of  Davis  &  Martin. 

We  add  a  few  more  names  to  our  roll  call  of  desir- 
able English  citizens,  beginning  with  Joseph  Peacock, 
our  first  gunsmith,  who  at  an  early  day  took  as  a 
partner  another  Englishman,  David  C.  Thatcher  to 
assist  him  in  attaching  barrels  to  gun  stocks. 

Thatcher  was  a  large,  powerful  man,  and  an  expert 
with  a  rifle  (and  with  choice  oaths,  did  occasion  de- 
mand). Once  a  superannuated  clergyman  was  in  the 
shop  examining  a  rusty  rifle — probably  older  than 
himself — neither  of  them  knowing  that  it  was  loaded. 


180  EARLY  CHICAGO 

The  parson  pulled  the  trigger,  and  out  came  a  ball 
which  struck  Peacock  in  the  stomach,  knocking  him 
over.  The  terrified  cleric  shouted — "I  have  killed 
him,"  and  immediately  dropped  to  his  knees  and 
commenced  praying  loud  and  earnestly.  Where- 
upon Thatcher,  disgusted  with  the  whole  perfomance, 
yelled — "  Stop  your  praying,  you  d — d  fool,  and  run  for 
a  doctor."  Upon  examination  the  doctor  found  that 
the  ball  had  struck  a  large  button  on  Peacock's  under- 
garment, where  it  stopped,  there  not  being  force 
enough  in  the  almost  inert  powder  to  do  any  serious 
damage. 

After  establishing  himself  here,  Peacock  sent  to 
England  for  his  sister,  who,  upon  her  arrival,  thought 
she  had  been  put  off  the  boat  at  the  wrong  place,  as 
there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  which  corresponded  with 
her  pre-conceived  idea  of  Chicago,  and  the  anxious 
young  girl  asked  a  laborer  where  Chicago  was.  She 
felt  greatly  relieved  that  he  could  tell  her  all  about  it, 
even  to  the  location  of  her  brother.  That  timid  girl 
became  the  wife  of  David  C.  Thatcher,  and  at  her 
pleasant  home  in  River  Forest  still  takes  delight  in 
recounting  her  early  experiences  in  the  Garden  City 
of  the  West. 

Mr.  Peacock's  brother,  Elijah,  came  here  in  1837  and 
engaged  in  his  trade  of  jewelry  and  watch  making, 
a  calling  that  had  already  descended  through  three 
generations,  following  the  English  custom,  and  which 
his  son,  Charles,  who  was  born  here  in  1838,  and  who 
has  been  one  of  our  leading  men  in  that  line,  tells  me 


OTHER  EARLY  SETTLERS  181 

will  be  continued  indefinitely,  as  the  mantle  is  slip- 
ping from  his  shoulders  onto  his  sons'. 

Abbey  &  Co.  became  successors  to  the  pioneer 
gunsmith.  Joseph  Peacock  afterward  gained  a 
competency  in  the  lumber  trade.  His  brother-in-law, 
Thatcher,  retired  to  the  Desplaines,  where  he  pur- 
chased a  beautiful  tract  of  land  and  built  a  brick 
house  on  Lake  street,  spending  there  his  remaining 
years.  His  family  still  resides  in  that  charming  vil- 
lage. His  sons,  George,  a  Chicago  lawyer,  David,  Jr., 
a  contractor,  and  his  daughter,  Clara,  and  her  husband, 
Solomon  Thatcher,  Jr.,  both  of  whom  have  recently 
departed  this  life,  took  an  active  part  in  the  World's 
Columbian  Exposition. 

Walter  L.  Newberry  was  one  of  our  early  commis- 
sion merchants.  He  was  tall  enough  to  see  a  great 
ways  ahead,  and  as  a  result  of  his  farsightedness  he 
purchased  all  the  land  in  sight  on  the  north  side  that 
he  could.  His  profits  on  this  venture  enabled  him 
to  leave  a  wise,  beneficent  and  lasting  monument,  the 
magnificient  Newberry  Library,  which  he  erected  in 
that  division  of  the  city  which  so  richly  rewarded  his 
investments. 

Another  of  our  citizens,  John  Wentworth,  whose 
limbs  were  still  more  elongated  than  Newberry's,  and 
who  was  favored  with  good  judgment,  held  title  to 
many  valuable  acres.  He  built  Jackson  Hall,  a 
three  story  brick  on  LaSalle  street,  where  he  roomed, 
issued  the  Democrat,  and  had  his  office.  His  friend, 
Matt  Laflin,  who  came  here  in  1837,  built  the  Fountain 


182  EARLY  CHICAGO 

House,  in  Waukesha,  running  it  under  a  manager, 
and  spending  much  of  his  time  there  in  summers. 
Wentworth  also  occasionally  took  a  run  up  to  "The 
City  of  Springs."  When  some  one  asked  Long  John 
how  he  spent  his  time  and  amused  himself,  he  replied, 
"The  most  fun  I  have  is  sittin'  'round  with  Matt  Laf- 
lin  cussin'  about  the  taxes.  Those  assessments  keep 
us  poor — Laflin  and  me.  Do  you  know  I  pay  $20,000  a 
year  in  special  assessments,  over  and  above  the  regular 
taxes?  I  do,  and  I  haven't  that  much  coming  in. 
My  income  isn't  enough  to  pay  my  taxes.  Laflin's 
in  the  same  fix,  and  we  just  sit  'round  here  and  cuss 
arid  swear  over  our  common  grievance."  His  assess- 
ments were  not  for  property  he  had  improved.  Mr. 
Laflin  did  make  some  improvements,  and  in  Lincoln 
Park  erected  a  fine  building  for  the  Academy  of 
Sciences. 

Wentworth's  eccentricity  displayed  itself  in  an 
unusual  manner.  Hiding  under  the  greatest  rock  in 
all  this  region,  brought  from  his  own  Granite  State — 
deep  in  the  virgin  soil,  where  the  sound  of  Gabriel's 
trumpet  may  not  reach  his  unknown  dust,  he  lies. 
He  wished  no  lettering  on  the  stone,  giving  for  his 
reason:  "One  reading  Wentworth,  would  say  'oh 
Wentworth/  and  pass  on.  But  being  told  it  was 
Wentworth's  the  enquirer  would  buy  a  biography 
and  find  out  who  Wentworth  was." 

Evidently  either  he  or  others  concluded  that  few 
would  care  enough  to  satisfy  their  curiosity  to  make 
the  small  investment  and  it  was  deemed  advisable  to 
make  the  following  record  on  the  granite : 


183 


JOHN    WENTWORTH. 

Born  at  Sandwich,  N.  H.,  March  5,  1815. 
Died  at  Chicago,  Illinois,  October  16,  1868. 

A  Dartmouth  Graduate,  Class  1836. 
He  settled  in  Chicago,  October,    1836. 

Mayor  of  Chicago  1857  and  1860. 

Member  of  28th,  29th,  30th,  31st,  33rd  and 

39th  U.  S.  Congress. 


Mr.  Ambrose  Burnham,  formerly  a  City  Marshal, 
together  with  Louis  Jones  and  myself  was  appointed 
a  trustee  by  William  Jones  for  his  grandson,  William 
Jones  King.  My  relations  with  Mr.  Burnham  had 
been  of  the  running  order.  I  having  in  former  years 
increased  by  one  a  crowd  of  boys  who  considered  Mr. 
Burnham  more  officious  than  was  necessary  in  a  mar- 
shal. Nothing,  in  my  opinion,  is  gained  in  the  man- 
agement of  youngsters  by  watching  them  too  closely 
and  seeing  everything  they  do.  Blindness  to  their 
harmless  roguery  is  often  wisdom  well  requitted. 
Had  our  conscientious  officer  acted  on  that  theory 
he  would  have  saved  himself  much  trouble  and  the 
boys  great  annoyance. 

Picture  to  yourself  a  lot  of  "kids"  strung  along 
the  Lake  front  with  the  low,  tempting  waves  curling 
upon  the  sandy  shore  and  singing  in  their  gentle 
monotone  inviting  them  to  come  in.  Can  you  wonder 
that  they  grow  impatient  at  the  slowly  setting  sun  and 
the  time  when  twilight  merges  into  darkness?  Does 
it  seem  strange  that  they  easily  persuade  them- 
selves that  it  is  darker  than  it  really  is,  and  that  the 


184  EARLY  CHICAGO 

prudish  residents  of  Michigan  avenue  cannot  see 
them  when  they  strip?  But  Burnham  would,  and, 
holding  their  clothes  until  they  were  obliged  to  come 
ashore,  he  would  permit  them  to  dress  only  to  accom- 
pany him  to  the  "lock  up"  on  the  north  side  of  the 
public  square,  where  a  light  fine  and  stern  admoni- 
tion was  the  usual  penalty  for  the  infraction  of  a  city 
ordinance. 

Remembering  the  chases  I  had  led  him,  I  at  first 
felt  a  slight  embarrassment  in  coming  into  his  august 
presence  when  we  entered  upon  our  joint  duties  as 
trustees.  But  that  soon  wore  off  as  we  laughed  and 
talked  over  those  olden  times.  He  acknowledged 
that  he  had  always  been  anxious  to  catch  me,  but 
that  somehow  I  would  spot  him,  rush  ashore,  grab 
up  my  clothing  and  run  up  the  sandy  beach,  he  after 
me;  but  he  could  never  lay  his  hands  upon  me.  He 
thought  I  could  run  faster  than  any  boy  in  town; 
the  rest  of  them  he  could  usually  run  down,  but  the 
longer  he  chased  me  the  farther  away  from  him  I  got. 

This  advertisement  used  to  appear  in  the  papers: 


J.  YOUNG  SCAMMON. 

Attorney  and  Counselor  at  Law.  Office 
in  Clerk's  office  on  the  Public  Square.  Re- 
fers to  Hon  Pely  Sprague,  Theophilus 
Parsons,  Esq.,  Boston,  Mass.  Mr.  Robert 
L.  Smith,  Pearl  Street,  New  York. 


That  meant  he  was  in  the  basement  of  the  Court 
House  on  the  northeast  corner  of  the  Public  Square, 


OTHER  EARLY  SETTLERS  185 

where  he  was  Clerk  of  the  Court.  It  was  not  long  that 
Mr.  Scammon  was  required  to  go  so  far  from  home 
to  get  a  certificate  of  character.  Most  members  of 
the  legal  profession  were  in  those  early  days  ex- 
pected to  give  eastern  references.  But  no  testi- 
monials that  Scammon  could  furnish  had  any  weight 
with  our  aftertime  eccentric  Justice  of  the  Peace, 
on  the  north  side,  Charlie  O'Malley,  who  was  one  of 
Long  John's  henchmen,  and  implicitly  believed 
Wentworth  would  succeed  St.  Peter,  when  he  got 
through  straightening  out  the  affairs  of  this  world. 
Charlie  had  read  in  his  bible,  issued  at  the  office  of 
the  Democrat  every  morning,  too  many  tirades  against 
Scammon,  his  bank  and  religion,  to  tolerate  him,  or 
anything  pertaining  to  him.  He  imagined  Emanuel 
Swedenborg  was  one  of  the  Norsemen  hailing  from 
Sweden  who  pounced  down  upon  Ireland,  and  whom 
St.  Patrick  conquered  in  a  hand  to  hand  fight  and 
banished  to  the  infernal  regions  as  chief  coal  shoveler; 
consequently  he  had  no  more  use  for  Scammon  than 
his  idol  had.  One  day  an  attorney,  trying  a  case  be- 
fore His  Honor,  cited  a  Supreme  Court  decision  found 
in  Scammon's  Reports,  unfortunately  stating  his 
authority.  O'Malley  shouted, "I  wants  yees  to  un- 
dhersthand,  the  Sthump-tail  Banker  ish  not  recog- 
nished  in  this  here  Court!  Does  yees  mind  that 
now?"  The  lawyer  had  to  mind  it  and  lost  his  case. 

Mr.  Scammon  was  never  a  popular  man  with  the 
masses,  though  a  most  excellent  gentleman  of  broad 
views,  public  spirit,  and  philanthropic  impulses. 

The  crockery  dealer,  A.  G.  Burley,  who  came  here 


186  EARLY  CHICAGO 

in  the  same  month  we  did  and  died  in  1897,  was  at  the 
head  of  one  of  the  oldest  mercantile  houses  of  Chicago. 
He  was  as  proud  of  his  business  as  a  young  mother 
of  her  first  born.  A  few  years  ago  it  became  neces- 
sary, for  business  reasons,  for  him  to  remove  his  retail 
department  from  Lake  street  to  State  street.  There 
he  fitted  up  one  of  the  finest,  if  not  the  finest,  crockery 
establishments  on  the  continent,  and  invested  in  his 
new  place  as  much  capital  in  furniture  and  fixtures 
alone  as  the  capital  of  all  the  merchants  in  Chicago 
amounted  to  at  the  time  of  his  arrival  in  the  place. 

Of  course  Mr.  Burley  belonged  to  that  Guard  of 
Honor,  the  Chicago  Volunteer  Fire  Department, 
serving  his  full  term,  which  released  him  from  mili- 
tary and  jury  duty. 

Mr.  Thomas  Church  came  here  in  1834  and  pur- 
chased two  lots  on  the  south  side  of  Lake  street, 
east  of  Clark  for,  $250  each.  Upon  the  east  lot  he 
built  a  cottage  in  which  the  family  resided.  On  the 
other  he  erected  a  store  where  he  conducted  a  grocery 
business. 

The  first  wife  of  Mr.  Church  died  in  1839,  leaving 
two  little  girls  who  sadly  needed  the  care  of  a  mother; 
they  were  blessed  in  about  a  year  by  the  mar- 
riage of  their  father  to  Mrs.  Rebecca  Pruyne,  whose 
highest  ambition  was  that  the  motherless  girls  should 
find  in  her  the  sympathy  and  affection  of  a  mother. 
This  gracious  lady  still  blesses  with  her  bright  and 
happy  presence  the  home  of  her  daughter,  Mrs. 
Seneca  D.  Kimbark. 

Melissa,  Mr.  Church's  younger  daughter,  became 


OTHER  EARLY  SETTLERS  187 

the  wife  of  Dr.  Ephriam  Ingals,  an  eminent  professor 
in  Rush  Medical  College,  a  successful  physician,  and 
one  of  the  kindest  hearted  and  most  honorable  men 
our  city  has  been  blessed  with.  Mary,  at  the  age  of  six- 
teen married  George  A.  Ingalls,  an  older  brother  of 
the  Doctor,  and  a  safe  conservative  counselor.  Mary, 
who  had  been  my  school  mate  at  Fort  Dearborn, 
became  our  nearest  Oak  Park  neighbor  and  the  mother 
of  a  large  family. 

Mr.  Church,  after  retiring  from  business,  filled  the 
office  of  Assessor  many  years,  having  the  entire  con- 
fidence of  the  community.  He  was  a  man  of  sound 
judgment,  pains-taking,  conscientious,  just  and  thor- 
oughly honest.  A  man  whom  none  dared  attempt 
to  bribe  or  bully.  When  he  retired  from  office,  he 
was  respected  and  beloved  to  an  unusual  degree  by 
those  whom  he  had  served  so  faithfully.  It  is  a 
public  loss  when  such  a  man  as  Thomas  Church  is 
taken  from  our  midst. 

"Green  be  the  turf  above  thee 
Friend  of  my  early  days, 
None  knew  thee  but  to  love  thee, 
None  named  thee  but  to  praise." 

S.  F.  Gale  removed  his  book  store  from  South  Water 
street  in  1839  to  the  southwest  corner  of  La  Salle 
and  Lake  streets.  Gale  invested  largely  in  west 
side  property,  which  is  supposed  to  be  worth  to-day 
about  $3,000,000.  He  was  active  in  early  affairs, 
taking  much  interest  in  the  fire  department,  which 
owed  a  great  deal  of  its  efficiency  to  his  good  judg- 
ment, energy  and  discipline.  After  serving  faith- 


188  EARLY  CHICAGO 

fully  as  foreman  of  a  company,  he  was  chief  for  '44, 
'45  and  '46. 

He  was  small  of  stature  and  in  his  younger  days 
was  light,  but  when,  as  foreman  of  his  company  or 
chief,  he  ordered  some  lounging  six-footer  to  "man 
the  brakes,"  and  the  giant  looked  down  to  see  where 
the  order  came  from,  and  refused,  he  dropped  so 
quickly  that  he  could  not  "reckon"  what  struck  him, 
but  he  "allowed  that  little  fellow  done  it  with  that 
speakin'  trumpet."  Although  as  a  young  man  he  was 
greatly  interested  in  public  affairs,  I  think  he  never 
held  any  political  office,  though  it  was  no  fault  of  his 
fellow  citizens  that  he  did  not.  His  home  for  many 
years  has  been  in  New  England. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

STILL  OTHER  EARLY  CITIZENS 

The  Tremont  was  always  associated  with  the  name 
of  Ira  Couch,  who,  with  his  brother,  James,  arrived 
here  in  1837.  As  it  became  so  historical  an  hostelry, 
I  will  devote  a  few  lines  to  its  history. 

That  old,  original,  two  story  Tremont,  which  stood 
on  the  northwest  corner  of  Lake  and  Dearborn  streets, 
rich  in  its  j^ellow  paint,  is  vividly  impressed  upon  my 
memory;  together  with  the  scramble  of  the  boarders 
for  the  table,  as  the  large  hand  bell  was  vigorously 
rung,  three  times  a  day,  on  the  corner.  Nor  is  the 
cupola  forgotten,  with  which  all  the  hotels  of  the  later 
thirties  and  forties  were  provided  as  lookouts  for 
steamers,  the  occasional  arrival  of  which  was  deemed 
of  sufficient  importance  to  justify  the  dismissal  of 
school,  or  at  least  the  granting  of  an  interminable 
recess.  From  their  look  out,  hotel  porters  and  run- 
ners were  wont  to  keep  their  eyes  on  the  lake,  so  as  to 
be  on  hand  when  a  steamer  reached  port. 

This  hotel  was  consumed  in  the  fire  of  October  26, 
1839.  In  the  winter  and  spring  of  1840  Ira  Couch 
erected  a  three  storied  wooden  building  on  the  present 
site  of  the  Tremont.  This  second  Tremont  was  de- 
stroyed by  fire  in  1849. 

It  was  in  the  dining  room  of  the  third  Tremont  that 

189 


190  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Jenny  Lind  gave  her  one  concert  in  Chicago,  when 
making  the  tour  of  the  United  States,  which  opened 
in  New  York  with  the  stirring  ode,  written  for  the 
occasion  by  Bayard  Taylor: 

"I  greet  with  a  whole  heart  the  land  of  the  west." 

The  room  was  selected  as  the  only  suitable  one  in 
the  place  for  this,  the  most  distinguished  and  impor- 
tant musical  event  that  had  ever  honored  our  city; 
and  I  doubt  if  any  who  were  fortunate  enough  to  hear 
the  Swedish  Nightingale  on  that  happy  occasion, 
have  ever  since  heard  anything  so  delightful  in  the 
way  of  singing. 

To  an  old  resident  the  mention  of  the  State  street 
Market  Hall  calls  up  many  pleasant  associations. 
Here  were  held  Firemen's  balls,  exhibitions,  lectures, 
public  and  political  meeetings  of  every  description, 
frequently  echoing  to  noise,  sometimes  to  eloquence. 
A  good  orator  was  a  great  attraction  to  me  even  at  an 
early  age.  Many  such  I  heard  in  that  old  hall.  Here 
I  heard  Lincoln's  eulogy  upon  President  Zachary 
Taylor,  closing  with  his  favorite  poem,  "Why  should 
the  Spirit  of  Mortal  be  Proud."  In  this  crowded 
hall  I  heard  my  friend,  Colonel  James  Adelbert  Mul- 
ligan, then  a  law  student,  deliver  his  eloquent  and 
effective  plea  for  the  starving  poor  of  the  Emerald 
Isle;  and  never  did  I  hear  him  do  better. 

Nor  shall  I  ever  forget  when  he  spoke  in  the  open 
air  in  front  of  North  Market  Hall  in  favor  of  Stephen 
A.  Douglas,  and  his  Nebraska  and  Kansas  measure. 
Stripped  of  his  coat,  vest  and  collar,  with  chest  exposed, 
his  long,  raven  locks  dishevelled,  Ms  brilliant,  piercing, 


STILL  OTHER  EARLY  CITIZENS       191 

black  eyes  beaming  with  wonderful  lustre,  which  im- 
parted to  his  pale  face  an  expression  that  I  had  never 
before  seen  there,  he  poured  forth  his  impassioned 
sentences  before  that  vast  crowd  in  the  glare  of  flam- 
boyant torches,  which  made  a  scene  almost  weird 
enough  to  recall  the  days  of  the  French  Commune, 
so  vividly  portrayed  by  Victor  Hugo.  Mulligan  was 
a  natural  orator  and  a  careful  student  of  the  art.  Of 
tall,  commanding  figure,  it  was  his  custom  to  begin 
his  speeches  with  his  right  hand  placed  in  the  breast 
of  his  closely  buttoned  black  coat;  and  as  he  became 
lost  in  his  subject,  warmed  by  the  fire  of  his  Irish 
heart,  his  graceful  gestures,  the  intonations  of  his 
clear,  sympathetic  voice,  soon  carried  his  spell  bound 
listeners  with  him  on  the  tide  of  his  finished  rhetoric. 
When  the  Civil  War  broke  out  he  started  to  raise  an 
Irish  regiment,  but  so  popular  was  he  that  it  soon 
became  a  brigade.  His  characteristic  speech  upon 
leaving  for  the  front,  in  which  he  implored  his  friends 
to  "Bury  me  with  my  comrades,  do  I  in  battle  fall," 
will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  heard  him. 
Equally  memorable  was  the  speech  he  delivered  from 
the  balcony  of  the  Tremont  House  when  he  described 
the  battle  of  Lexington,  Missouri,  where  he  was  com- 
pelled to  surrender,  after  one  of  the  most  stubbornly 
contested  engagements  of  the  war.  Nothing  was 
more  characteristic  of  my  chivalric  friend  than  his 
action  in  his  last  battle,  at  Kernstown,  Winchester, 
Va.,  on  Sunday,  July  24,  1864.  He  had  received 
three  mortal  wounds,  and  when  his  devoted  men 
tenderly  raised  him  to  carry  him  from  the  field,  in 


192  EARLY  CHICAGO 

as  gallant  words  as  ever  a  dying  hero  breathed,  he 
said  to  them,  "  Lay  me  down  and  save  the  flag." 

What  the  destiny  of  our  patriot  might  have  been, 
had  an  overruling  Providence  spared  him  to  return 
to  his  home  and  loved  ones,  none  can  tell;  but  those 
who  knew  well  his  sterling  qualities  had  prophesied 
a  great  future  in  the  civic  walks  of  life  for  our  excep- 
tionally brilliant,  high-minded  friend. 

Henry  Clay  declared  that  Samuel  Lisle  Smith  "  was 
the  best  orator  he  had  ever  heard."  Unfortunately, 
not  a  single  line  of  this  great  man's  speeches,  orations 
jor  addresses  was  ever  preserved,  save  in  the  fading 
memories  of  those  who  had  the  enviable  felicity  of 
hearing  our  transcendent  orator.  When  he  was 
speaking  it  appeared  as  if  his  ideas  came  to  him  in- 
stantaneously, while  he  looked  upon  the  throng  which 
ever  greeted  him.  It  seemed  as  if  the  presence  of  a 
multitude  was  a  stimulus  that  called  forth  the  purest 
language,  finest  imagery  and  choicest  words  to  give  a 
powerful  expression  to  his  lofty  thoughts.  But  had 
every  word  he  spoke  been  written  out  and  preserved, 
they  would  have  resembled  a  withered  bouquet  com- 
pared with  the  choice  flowers  of  rhetoric  which  he  pre- 
sented to  his  listeners.  Chicago  has  undoubtedly  had 
more  profound  jurists,  but  none  I  believe  that  was 
his  equal  as  an  orator.  There  are  probably  not  many 
now  living  who  heard  his  eulogies  upon  John  Quincy 
Adams  in  the  Methodist  church,  upon  Henry  Clay 
in  the  North  Side  Grove,  and  his  masterly  oration 
before  the  Sons  of  Perm  in  the  2nd  Presbyterian 
church  on  the  south  side  of  Randolph.  The  language, 


STILL  OTHER  EARLY  CITIZENS       193 

in  type,  could  give  no  conception  of  the  effect  of  Smith's 
delivery.  I  so  admired  the  brilliant  son  of  Pennsyl- 
vania that  I  never  failed,  knowingly,  to  hear  his 
political  speeches  and  more  important  addresses. 
He  idolized  Henry  Clay,— "  Bold  Harry  of  the  West/' 
—"The  Mill  Boy  of  the  Slashes"— and  though  but 
12  years  of  age  when  the  contest  for  the  Presidency 
between  Clay  and  Polk  occurred,  I  was  always  present 
if  Lisle  Smith  or  Abe  Lincoln  was  to  speak.  So  many 
times  did  I  hear  him  when  the  Great  Champion  of 
American  Protection  was  his  theme,  that  after  listen- 
ing to  his  masterly  eulogy  upon  John  Quincy  Adams, 
I  had  doubtless  set  my  mark  too  high  when  he  came 
to  speak  of  his  silent  friend.  I  was  beside  the  plat- 
form where  I  caught  every  expression  of  his  marvel- 
ously  mobile  face,  the  telling  significance  of  every 
intonation  of  his  perfectly  trained  voice;  yet  I  must 
say  that  I  went  home  feeling  that  the  matchless  orator 
had  not  reached  the  lofty  heights  which,  judging  by 
his  former  efforts,  I  had  expected  him  to  attain.  It 
may  have  been  the  heat,  or  the  only  half  screened 
rays  of  the  blazing  sun,  or  even,  as  some  of  his  dearest 
friends  sorrowfully  admitted,  something  else;  but 
it  saddened  me  to  think  that  his  sun  might  possibly 
be  sinking.  I  did  not  believe,  at  any  rate,  that  he 
did  himself  justice,  though  few  could  have  done  so 
well. 

In  his  eulogy  upon  Adams,  when  he  spoke  of  the 
"Old  Man  Eloquent"  returning  to  the  House  of 
Representatives,  after  leaving  the  Presidential  chair, 
he  employed  with  striking  effect  the  simile  of  the 


194  EARLY  CHICAGO 

eagle  descending  to  its  chosen  crag  from  the  illimitable 
space  above,  not  a  wounded  ruler  of  the  sky,  falling, 
bleeding,  from  the  beauteous  heavens  to  the  barren 
earth,  but  still  the  king  of  birds,  not  a  feather  of 
his  lordly  breast  ruffled  by  an  arrow,  not  a  quill  clipped 
from  his  mighty  pinions  by  the  rifle  ball,  not  whirling 
hopelessly  downward  from  some  lightning  bolt,  but 
defying  the  savage  and  the  hunter,  sweeping  in  broad 
majestic  circles  the  boundless  regions  of  the  air, 
descending  in  graceful  curves,  every  evolution  he 
grandly  makes  drawing  him  nearer  to  ourselves, 
until  we  are  thrilled  with  admiration  at  his  power 
and  his  grace  as  with  folded  wings  he  settles  above 
his  lofty,  inaccessible  eyry,  like  a  monarch  upon 
his  throne.  So  moved  the  peerless  statesman  of 
Massachusetts  from  the  chair  of  state  he  had  honored 
to  the  House  of  Representatives,  exalted  by  his 
presence.  Afterwards  I  heard  him  in  the  Saloon 
building,  when  General  Scott  was  running  for  the 
presidency.  The  debt  of  gratitude  which  the  nation 
owed  its  heroic  defender  was  his  theme,  and  the  storms 
of  applause  which  broke  in  on  his  finished  periods, 
showed  that  the  fire  still  burned  in  his  breast,  and 
flamed  with  inspiration  from  his  lips.  A  grand  man, 
with  a  heart  as  noble  as  his  lofty  conceptions.  I 
I  remember  his  wife  telling  my  mother  of  his  taking 
off  his  overcoat  and  gloves  in  the  street,  a  few  evenings 
before,  to  give  them  to  an  unfortunate,  while  he 
walked  home  in  the  storm,  happy  in  the  deed. 

Had  Benjamin  F.  Taylor  been  willing  to  put  the 
requisite  labor  on  his  productions — which  breathe  the 


STILL  OTHER  EARLY  CITIZENS       195 

soul  of  poetry,  combining  brilliant  imagery  with  won- 
derful conceits — his  name  would  rank  high  among  the 
poets  of  the  age. 

My  acquaintance  with  Taylor  began  before  he  was 
associated  with  the  Journal,  when  he  was  teaching 
school  on  LaSalle  street,  I  assisted  the  boys  in  stage 
work  for  an  exhibition  that  was  held  in  the  Saloon 
building  at  the  close  of  school;  upon  which  service, 
he  placed  a  higher  value  than  he  should  have  done. 

He  and  Dr.  J.  H.  Bird  were  quite  intimate,  the 
office  of  the  doctor,  over  J.  H.  Reed  &  Co.'s  drug  store, 
being  used  during  one  of  the  cholera  seasons  as  a  bed- 
room for  the  two.  Taylor  was  very  much  afraid  of  the 
epidemic,  and  frequently  ran  up  to  the  doctor's 
office  during  the  day  to  consult  him  upon  some  im- 
aginary symptom  of  the  disease,  which  one  of  Bird's 
harmless  charcoal  and  sulphur  pills,  aided  by  faith 
in  the  doctor  and  the  vivid  imagination  of  the  poet, 
invariably  relieved. 

He  had  many  of  the  characteristics  which  we  are 
accustomed  to  associate  with  genius,  being  improv- 
ident, procrastinating,  and  a  brilliant  conversation- 
alist. As  an  instance  of  his  procrastination,  Shuman 
once  told  me  that  he  promised  the  carriers  of  three 
papers  a  New  Year's  address,  and  on  the  evening  of 
the  last  day  in  the  year,  he  had  not  written  a  line. 
The  messengers  were  frantic,  but  B.  F.  smilingly  re- 
quested the  boys  to  be  seated,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
he  handed  one  of  them  a  stanza  with  an  order  to  hurry 
back  and  he  would  have  another  ready  for  him. 
Then  beginning  another  poem  for  his  nervous  news- 


196  EARLY  CHICAGO 

slinger,  he  soon  had  him  rushing  to  his  paper  with  a 
single  verse,  and  thus  he  wrote  alternately  parts  of 
two  different  poems  in  his  best  vein,  winding  up  with 
a  third  for  the  Journal. 

He  lived  a  number  of  years  at  Winfield  on  the  Ga- 
lena division  of  the  Northwestern,  and  we  frequently 
sat  together  on  the  cars.  Once  upon  my  struggling 
in  with  a  large  turkey,  he  commenced  decrying  the 
prize  fowl  of  the  banquet  table  winding  up  with  the 
remark  that  "it  owed  its  reputation  exclusively  to 
tfye  herbs  and  care  taken  in  its  preparation,  that 
without  those  concomitants  it  would  be  no  better 
than  a  crow."  His  laugh  rang  through  the  car, 
when  I  replied:  "I  never  thought  he  had  gone  so  far 
into  politics  as  to  be  obliged  to  ascertain  the  flavor  of 
crow." 

It  was  a  remark  of  his  that  he  could  always  determine 
a  man's  financial  condition  by  the  train  he  took.  If 
his  income  depended  upon  his  own  exertions  he  took 
the  eight  o'clock;  if  upon  the  labor  of  others,  the  10 : 30. 
If  independent  of  both,  the  afternoon  train;  while  if 
quite  wealthy  he  waited  till  the  next  day. 

Dr.  (at  that  time  carpenter)  Robinson  Tripp 
reached  his  "graveyard,"  on  July  1,  1834  "in  the 
last  stages  of  consumption,"  but  had  no  use  for  his 
last  resting  place  for  more  than  60  years.  Fortu- 
nately many  recent  inventions  had  not  then  been 
devised.  Had  he  owned  a  fever  thermometer  to 
place  in  his  mouth  every  time  he  coughed,  drove  a 
a  nail  or  pulled  a  weed,  he  would  have  had  no  time 
to  lay  walks  and  make  gardens,  and  would  probably 


STILL  OTHER  EARLY  CITIZENS       197 

have  frightened  himself  to  death.  Many  people 
profess  great  devotion  to  their  church  when,  as  Dooley 
says,  "  they  have  one  foot  in  the  grave  the  other  in  the 
hearse,"  but  their  zeal  wanes  with  the  return  of 
health.  It  was  not  so  with  Father  Tripp.  Through 
his  long  life  he  was  deeply  interested  in  the  Methodist 
Church,  which  he  loved  and  to  which  he  was  always 
a  credit. 

In  1835  Mr.  Tripp  bought  a  lot  now  numbered  122 
Lake  street  where  in  the  following  summer  he  built 
a  store  and  laid  the  first  wide  sidewalk  of  the  town, 
which  created  much  comment  and  drew  as  many 
visitors  as  the  mammoth  stone  laid  in  front  of  J.  H. 
Reed  &  Co/s,  near  the  same  location,  about  twenty 
years  afterward. 

Thomas  Hoyne,  one  of  our  most  prominent  at- 
torneys and  valuable  citizens,  came  here  in  1837. 
In  1840  he  married  Leonore  Temple,  daughter  of 
Dr.  J.  T.  Temple,  who  was  living  at  the  corner  of 
Lake  and  Franklin  streets.  The  young  lady  was  15 
years  old  when  she  became  Mrs.  Hoyne.  Concerning 
the  marriage  I  quote  from  a  letter  from  Judge  Brad- 
well  :  "The  wedding  occurred  Sept.  17, 1840,  the  bridal 
trip  being  but  a  buggy  ride  to  Milford's,  about  nine 
mile  from  the  little  village.  They  commenced  house- 
keeping in  a  little  frame  house,  afterward  occupied 
by  Hodson,  the  tailor.  His  income  of  $400  per  year 
as  city  clerk  and  the  fees  received  from  his  practice 
met  all  their  requirements." 

When  we  became  a  City,  in  1837,  we  had  begun 
to  feel  our  importance,  and  were  so  elated  by  the 


198  EARLY  CHICAGO 

honor  that  we  boasted  of  being  the  largest  town  in  the 
state,  which  some  denied,  however;  so  we  counted  up 
and  found  we  had  something  over  4,000.  That  we 
did  not  cover  a  vast  extent  of  territory  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  fact  that  Matthew  Laflin,  who  ar- 
rived that  season,  wishing  to  continue  in  the  powder 
business,  had  a  small  brick  magazine  built  on  the 
lake  shore,  not  very  far  from  Lake  street. 

In  the  fifties,  Mr.  Laflin  and  his  partner,  Walter 
N.  Mills,  were  in  the  Yankee  Notion  business,  and 
they  made  a  specialty  of  sending  men  all  over  the 
country  with  teams,  to  peddle  their  wares.  Their 
store  was  on  Water  street  directly  in  the  rear  of  Reed's 
drug  store,  where  I  was  employed.  Here  I  used  to 
notice  an  active  boy  amusing  himself  on  Saturdays 
by  climbing  around  the  large  peddling  wagons. 
Should  you  ever  require  the  services  of  one  of  our 
brightest  lawyers  you  will  find  that  boy,  grown  into 
a  brilliant  orator,  on  La  Salle  street.  But  Luther 
Laflin  Mills,  the  City  and  I  have  seen  many  changes 
since  that  day. 

When  James  Long  was  appointed  Lighthouse 
Keeper,  he  relinquished  his  duties  at  the  Hydraulic 
Mill,  that  he  had  been  instrumental  in  establishing, 
and  the  Water  Plant,  which  had  been  such  a  boon  to 
the  city.  I  surmise  that  light  employment  was 
more  to  the  taste  of  our  subsequent  School  Agent, 
as  the  $1,500  salary  and  stone  domicile  in  the  light- 
house enclosure  adjoining  the  fort  seemed  in  better 
keeping  with  that  silk  hat  and  black  broadcloth  coat, 
we  always  used  to  see  him  in,  than  the  dusty  vocation 


STILL  OTHER  EARLY  CITIZENS       199 

of  a  miller.  Moreover,  he  could  delegate  the  task  of 
taking  care  of  the  six  rotary  oil  lamps  of  the  lighthouse 
proper,  (built  in  1834),  to  his  sons  Eugene  and  John 
Conant,  as  well  as  the  more  perilous  duty  of  keeping 
the  light  at  the  end  of  the  north  pier  properly  cared  for. 

In  a  big  storm  the  waves  washed  over  the  pier, 
which  in  cold  weather  would  be  covered  with  ice, 
and  the  boys  were  compelled  to  run  in  the  fierce  wind 
from  one  pile  to  another,  placed  about  forty  feet 
apart,  in  the  center  of  the  construction. 

When  Isaac  L.  Milliken  ran  for  the  mayoralty,  his 
opponent  was  Amos  G.  Throop,  a  leading  lumberman, 
who  built  the  Garden  City  House  on  the  northeast 
corner  of  Market  and  Madison  streets,  which  for  a 
number  of  years  was  a  popular  family  temperance 
hotel.  I  quote  from  my  diary  under  date  of  Tuesday, 
March  7,  1854,  the  following:  "I  this  day  deposited 
my  first  vote  as  an  American  citizen.  It  was  in 
favor  of  the  Maine  law  candidate  for  Mayor,  A.  G. 
Throop,  and  D.  Knight  for  Marshal.  The  strife  was 
between  the  mayor  and  marshal  candidates  on  the 
temperance  question.  Milliken  was  elected  for  the 
former  place,  Knight  for  the  latter." 

Mr.  Throop,  as  a  common  counselor  was  highly 
thought  of  by  his  constituents,  and  I  might  say  by 
every  one.  Failing  in  business  here,  he  removed  to 
California,  where  his  fortunate  Los  Angeles  invest- 
ments enabled  him  to  pay  every  dollar  of  his  indebted- 
ness with  interest  and  also  to  contribute  largely  to 
the  erection  and  support  of  the  Universalist  Church 
in  Pasadena,  where  he  made  his  home,  The  crowning 


200  EARLY  CHICAGO 

work  of  his  useful  life  was  the  Throop  Polytechnic 
Institute,  the  grandest  monument  of  the  good  man, 
and  in  the  success  of  which  his  heart  was  wrapped  up. 
Father  Throop,  to  speak  of  him  as  does  everyone  in 
the  Land  of  Sunshine,  was  an  unusually  plain,  unos- 
tentatious man,  and  simple  in  his  tastes.  It  is  cus- 
tomary to  have  a  memorial  service  at  Pasadena 
upon  each  anniversary  of  his  death.  The  Rev.  H.  T. 
Staats,  the  Congregational  minister,  in  his  eulogy 
upon  one  of  these  occasions,  remarking  upon  his 
family  horse  and  phaeton  said: 

"  That  was  not  a  very  showy  turn-out,  was  it?  but 
when  Father  Throop  got  into  that  old  carriage,  there 
was  royalty  there." 

He  was  as  plain  in  his  speech  as  in  his  dress  and 
home.  In  speaking  he  never  sought  the  decoration 
of  rhetoric,  but  had  a  happy  faculty  of  saying  just  the 
right  thing  at  the  right  time,  and  his  manner,  like  that 
of  that  "other  plain  man,"  convinced  one  of  his 
honesty. 

You  remember  the  remark  of  that  "other  plain 
man,"  when  he  overheard  an  Englishman  tell  his 
comrades,  "He's  nothing  but  a  very  plain  man," 
when  Lincoln,  much  to  their  mortification,  showed 
that  he  had  caught  the  comment,  by  replying,  "  God 
must  love  plain  people  or  he  would  not  make  so  many 
of  them."  I  think  he  must  have  loved  Mr.  Throop, 
making  a  willing  instrument  of  him  for  carrying  out 
many  plans  for  the  benefit  of  the  human  race. 

The  old  lumber  dealer  had  considerable  native  wit 
and  humor  in  his  make  up.  During  his  campaign 


STILL  OTHER  EARLY  CITIZENS       201 

for  the  mayoralty,  he  made  speeches  all  over  the  city, 
and  one  night  he  came  into  the  State  street  Market 
Hall,  where  there  was  a  rousing  meeting.  As  he 
entered  the  room  there  were  deafening  calls  for 
"  Throop,  Throop.  A  speech  from  Throop!"  When, 
in  response,  he  mounted  the  platform  some  one 
shouted,  "Takeoff  your  overcoat."  As  quick  as  a 
flash  he  started  to  do  so,  calling  back, — "  You  under- 
stand I  am  not  stripping  to  fight  I  am  getting  ready  to 
run." 


CHAPTER   XV 

SCHOLARS  AND  SCHOOLING 

It  is  a  commendable  characteristic  of  our  American 
civilization  that  every  new  settlement  provides  itself 
as  soon  as  possible  with  churches,  schools,  water, 
roads,  sewers,  and  other  improvements  for  the  bet- 
terment of  the  conditions  of  the  people.  Thus  far 
in  these  reminiscences  I  have  paid  but  little  attention 
to  the  important  matter  of  schools.  It  may  be  the 
result  of  early  habit,  for,  although  my  parents  always 
insisted  that  I  should  go  through  the  form  of  attend- 
ing, and  I  never  played  hookey,  nevertheless  I  am 
afraid  that  I  loved  school  no  more  than  the  conven- 
tional dose  of  sulphur  and  molasses,  or  the  more 
detestable  picra  that  youngsters  were  required  to  take 
every  morning  in  spring. 

When  a  lad,  my  studying  was  so  desultory  and  the 
change  of  teachers,  from  one  poor  one  to  another,  so 
rapid  that  I  accomplished  but  little.  I  will  not, 
however,  be  so  unjust  as  to  attribute  my  defects  in 
this  important  matter  wholly  to  my  tutors,  but 
will  freely  admit  that  a  game  of  "two  old  cat"  had 
a  greater  charm  for  me  than  a  lesson  in  grammar, 
and  manual  labor  than  an  equation  in  payments. 
But  my  youthful  backwardness  and  indifference 

might  be  attributed  largely  to  unqualified  and  in- 

aoa 


204  EARLY  CHICAGO 

different  teachers;  men  who  had  never  fitted  them- 
selves for  the  work,  or  who  engaged  in  it  temporarily, 
because  of  lack  of  other  employment.  For,  in  addi- 
tion to  a  vast  number  of  incompetents,  there  were 
many  who  had  the  effrontery  to  assume  the  exalted 
office  of  instructors  who  took  no  interest  in  their 
transient  calling,  their  minds  being  pre-occupied  with 
reading  law,  studying  medicine  or  preparing  for  the 
ministry. 

A  conscious  effort  at  improvement  in  public  schools 
was  made  in  1835,  when  the  school  section  was  sold. 
vThe  "school  section"  was  in  existence  at  that  time 
as  well  as  now,  having  been  devised  by  Jefferson. 
The  same  wisdom  which  caused  him  to  found  the 
University  of  Virginia  also  inspired  him  to  incorporate 
in  the  famous  ordinance  of  1787  an  ingenious  plan  for 
laying  out  land  in  townships  of  six  miles  square, 
composed  of  36  sections,  640  acres  each,  and  providing 
that  Section  16  in  every  township  be  set  apart  for  the 
exclusive  support  of  public  schools.  By  this  arrange- 
ment, the  school  section  is  the  center  of  the  town- 
ship, the  advantage  of  which  is  easily  understood. 
Section  16  of  this  township  is  in  the  very  heart  of  the 
city,  extending  from  State  street  to  Halsted,  from 
Madison  to  12th.  In  1835  upon  the  request  of  35 
petitioners,  this  property,  the  present  value  of  which 
it  would  be  difficult  to  compute,  was  sold  for  a  little 
less  than  $40,000.  It  is  stated  that  at  the  time  this 
sale  occurred  there  were  less  than  100  school  children 
in  the  entire  section,  and  from  600  to  800  persons. 
This  may  be  setting  the  number  of  people  rather 


SCHOLARS  AND  SCHOOLING          205 

high,  but  if  there  were  only  500  people  was  the  sale 
legal?  The  law  requires  "at  least  two  thirds  of  the 
legal  voters  of  the  town  to  sign  a  petition  for  the  sale 
of  school  land  before  it  can  be  acted  upon."  Did  35 
freeholders  constitute  two-thirds  of  the  legal  voters? 
I  never  heard  the  question  raised,  but  I  think  not. 
At  any  rate  the  city  pays  more  money  nearly  every 
year  for  poor  lots  upon  which  to  erect  school  buildings 
than  was  received  for  that  entire  section.  Fortunate- 
ly a  few  valuable  lots  were  reserved  by  or  reverted 
to  the  school  trustees.  The  four  blocks  reserved 
were  number  one,  bounded  by  Halsted,  Union,  Mad- 
ison and  Monroe;  numbers  eighty-seven  and  eighty- 
eight,  bounded  by  the  river,  Wells,  Harrison  and  Polk, 
and  number  one  hundred  and  forty-two,  bounded  by 
State,  Madison,  Dearborn  and  Monroe. 

There  is  a  portion  of  another  school  section  which 
the  city  has  vainly  endeavored  to  appropriate  to  its 
own  use,  but  thus  far,  the  law  has  been  on  the  side  of 
the  weaker  party;  yet  should  the  balance  of  the  Town- 
ship of  Cicero,  inspired  by  the  example  of  its  ambi- 
tious Austin  child,  which  was  wedded  to  Chicago  in 
1899,  conclude  to  put  on  city  airs,  the  Greater  Chicago 
may  acquire  an  interest  in  Section  16,  of  township 
39.  N.  R.  13.  E.  of  3  p.  m.,  situated  partly  in  the  former 
territory  of  Austin.  Should  that  ever  occur,  it  is 
hoped  that  those  in  authority,  learning  by  past  ex- 
perience, will  resolutely  set  their  faces  against  dispos- 
ing of  any  more  school  lands. 

Fortunately  for  all,  the  voters  of  Cicero  have  per- 
sistently opposed  selling  the  281  acres  still  remaining, 


206  EARLY  CHICAGO 

preferring  to  lease  it  for  the  present  at  a  low  rental, 
believing  the  future  will  amply  justify  that  conserva- 
tive course.  This  section  is  bounded  on  the  south  by 
1 2th  street,  north  by  Madison,  east  by  West  48th  street, 
and  on  the  west  by  Central  avenue — one  of  the 
principal  residence  streets  of  the  recently  admitted 
village.  For  the  land  sold,  the  school  trustees  have 
received  (1899)  nearly  $200,000,  which  is  constantly 
loaned  out,  on  good  security,  and  at  the  highest  pre- 
vailing rate  of  interest,  with  no  expense  of  commis- 
sions to  the  township,  or  to  the  borrower.  Not  a 
single  dollar  of  this  principal  fund  has  ever  been  lost. 
We  think  no  business,  nor  financial  institution  in  the 
country  can  show  such  a  record.  In  fact,  that  fund 
has  been  increased  above  the  original  amount  of  sales 
by  the  reselling  of  forfeited  property.  How  different 
this,  from  what  the  city  reported  in  1843,  when  its 
''Principal  Fund  of  nearly  $40,000,  was  reduced 
about  one  half  in  18  years  by  injudicious  loans.'' 

George  A.  Philbrick,  a  resident  of  Austin,  has  been 
treasurer  and  clerk  of  the  Cicero  board  for  30  years, 
to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  every  teacher,  and  all  other 
persons  with  whom  he  has  had  business  relations. 

It  is  hoped,  that  if  the  city  ever  acquires  Section  16, 
Township  39,  it  will  indorse  the  conservative  action, 
and  business  intelligence  of  the  Cicero  people,  for  the 
last  40  years,  by  doing  as  they  have  done;  and  the 
rentals  from  the  lands  still  retained,  will  eventually 
support  all  the  schools  of  the  Greater  Chicago.  Enter 
this  somewhere  as  the  prophecy  of  one  who,  long  ago, 


SCHOLARS  AND  SCHOOLING          207 

as  a  school  director  and  trustee,  served  the  township 
of  Cicero  15  years. 

Since  writing  the  above,  I  am  sorry  to  report  that 
our  school  trustees  have  sold  to  the  railroads  31 
acres  of  this  land,  leaving,  April,  1901,  but  250  acres, 
with  the  permanent  fund  of  $242,352.65. 

It  appears  rather  strange  in  this  year  of  our  Lord 
that  the  trustees  of  school  district  No.  1  were  obliged 
to  report  that — "Sarah  Kellogg  was  employed  by  us 
to  teach  for  a  quarter  of  a  year,  at  the  rate  of  ten 
dollars  per  week,  and  the  reason  she  did  not  teach  the 
whole  quarter,  is  that  neither  a  suitable  room,  stove 
nor  furnace  could  be  obtained  by  any  means  within 
our  power,  so  as  to  make  her  and  the  scholars  com- 
fortable." 

But  this  was  October  30,  1837  It  is  pleasant  to 
know  that  three  years  later,  the  school  was  in  our  first 
public  school  building,  where  the  Tribune  building 
now  stands,  and  that  it  cost  the  tax  payers  but  $86.24 
to  repair  and  furnish  the  same.  The  trustees  paid  $6 
per  month  rental  each  for  2  rooms  in  which  to  accom- 
modate the  schools  of  districts  3  and  4.  But  we  ought 
not  complain  of  the  price,  as  No.  3  took  care  of  all 
the  scholars  on  the  west  side  and  No.  4  of  the  north 
side  students,  district  No.  1  taking  all  east  of  Clark 
street  on  the  south  side,  while  No.  2  was  west  of  it. 
No  1  had  75  pupils  enrolled,  No.  2  had  63,  No.  3  had 
71,  while  No.  4  had  108  to  its  credit. 

On  November  8,  1841,  the  Common  Council  "  or- 
dered that  the  following  books  be  furnished  each 


208  EARLY  CHICAGO 

district  of  the  city,  to  be  paid  out  of  the  school  tax 
and  charged  to  each  district,  to  wit:  Worcester's 
2nd,  3rd  and  4th  Readers,  Webster's  Dictionary  and 
Parley's  1st,  2nd  and  3rd  books  of  History."  I  suspect 
that  the  council  was  stimulated  to  this  extravagance 
in  anticipation  of  larger  revenues  as  the  result  of  the 
order  passed  the  February  previous,  as  follows — "  that 
the  school  tax  shall  not  be  collected  in  city  orders 
but  in  current  funds." 

Previous  to  the  sale  of  the  school  section  in  1835 
there  were,  of  course,  no  public  schools.  In  fact  the 
first  appropriation  made  out  of  the  school  fund  was 
to  Miss  Eliza  Chappel,  nearly  two  years  after  the  sale. 
In  1840  the  school  funds  passed  from  the  Cook  County 
Land  Commissioner,  Richard  J.  Hamilton,  to  the 
School  Agent,  Wm.  H.  Brown,  who  served  13  years, 
ten  of  which  were  gratuitous.  The  funds  had  a 
pretty  hard  time  weathering  the  financial  storm 
which  raged  after  the  sale,  judging  by  the  following 
report  of  Mr.  Brown  at  the  close  of  the  year  1839 : 

Loaned  on  personal  security  not  in  suit. .  $11,564.22 

Loaned  on  mortgage  not  in  suit 12,437.74 

Amount  in  suit 6,545.00 

Amount  in  judgment 7,366.36 

Included  in  note  given  for  interest 64.00 

Total  securities $37,977.32 

Cash  on  hand  .  648.15 


Total $38,625.47 

It  is  now  $980,215.19.  The  school  fund  property 
which  in  1840  was  $10,000,  is  now  $8,526,833.33. 
The  annual  income  on  this  item  is  now  $870,161.22. 


SCHOLARS  AND  SCHOOLING          209 

The  school  sites,  with  buildings  and  furniture  is 
$22,498,805.  In  1840,  nothing. 

We  then  had  4  schools  and  4  teachers,  317  scholars. 
To-day  we  have  more  than  400  schools,  5,800  teachers 
and  255,861  scholars. 

I  express  my  obligations  to  Hon.  Charles  C.  P. 
Holden  for  much  of  this  statistical  matter  pertaining 
to  schools,  it  being  taken  from  his  address  at  the  Old 
Settler's  banquet,  May  26,  1900. 

My  first  teacher  was  my  sister,  Georgiana,  who  gave 
me  lessons  at  home  when  the  Indians  were  more 
numerous  than  the  leaves  on  the  honey  locusts.  I 
did  not  wish  her  to  teach  me  without  some  compen- 
sation; therefore,  while  she  was  teaching  me  my 
letters,  I  was  teaching  her  patience.  And  I  think, 
as  I  look  back  over  my  school  days,  that  I  was  equally 
considerate  of  all  of  my  teachers.  I  was  as  solicitous 
that  they  should  learn  the  cardinal  virtues  of  patience, 
charity  and  forgiveness  as  they  were  that  I  should  be- 
come proficient  in  grammar,  geography  and  geom- 
etry. 

After  the  removal  of  the  Indians  I  went  for  a 
short  time  to  the  building  erected  on  South  Water 
street  by  Dr.  Temple,  and  thence  to  the  Presbyterian 
church  on  Clark,  south  of  Lake.  Neither  of  these 
places  left  a  lasting  impression  on  me,  though,  I  pre- 
sume, judging  by  subsequent  experiences,  that  my 
teachers  left  such  as  I  felt  at  the  time  would  remain 
forever. 

I  attended  school  in  Fort  Dearborn  in  about  the 
year  1842.  Miss  Ruth  Leavenworth,  sister  of  Lieuten- 


210  EARLY  CHICAGO 

ant  Leavenworth,  superintendent  of  harbor  im- 
provements, was  the  first  teacher. 

Fort  Dearborn  consisted  of  a  pallisade  which  sur- 
rounded a  cluster  of  buildings.  These  buildings  were 
constructed  of  hewn  logs  covered  with  clapboards 
and  comprised  two  long  rows  of  two  story  barracks, 
one  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  enclosure  for  the  officers 
and  one  on  the  western  for  the  soldiers;  a  residence 
for  the  commanding  officer  in  the  northwest  corner, 
facing  south;  a  suttler's  store  at  the  northeast  cor- 
ner; a  quartermaster's  department  at  the  southeast; 
a  square  block  house  in  the  southwest  corner,  the 
upper  part  of  which  projected  and  carried  port- 
holes; a  brick  magazine  east  of  the  block  house  and 
a  guard  house  between  it  and  the  quartermaster's 
store.  The  pallisades  were  surmounted  at  each  side 
by  a  sentry  box.  Between  the  barracks  was  the 
parade  ground  in  the  center  of  which  was  the  flag 
staff.  The  post  garden  was  south  of  the  inclosure. 

The  school  sessions  were  first  held  in  the  south  end 
of  the  barracks  on  the  east  side,  in  the  second  story. 
The  room  was  reached  by  outside  stairs  at  the  south 
end  of  the  building,  landing  in  a  long  covered  porch 
extending  its  entire  length.  Removal  from  this 
room  was  soon  after  made  to  the  one  opposite,  on 
the  western  side  of  the  enclosure  when  occurred  the 
destruction  of  the  fireplace,  which  came  about  in  this 
wise.  One  of  the  punishments  adopted  by  Miss 
Brayton  (Miss  Leavenworth's  successor)  was  to  place 
the  culprit  on  a  bench  facing  the  fireplace  and  in  close 
proximity  to  it,  where  he  had  to  remain  until  her  heart 


OS 
z  o 


00  W 

"" 


211 

relented.  The  writer,  being  suspected  of  some  slight 
misdemeanor,  was  one  day  relegated  to  this  unenvi- 
able position,with  his  back  to  the  scholars ;  thus  seated 
he  soon  observed  that  the  key-brick  was  loose,  and 
could  be  easily  removed  if  a  favorable  opportunity 
should  offer.  It  came.  The  teacher  had  occasion  to 
leave  the  room,  and  during  her  absence  the  fireplace 
became  a  heap  of  ruins;  soot,  dust,  ashes  and  noise 
filled  the  apartment,  which  was  speedily  vacated  by 
the  scholars.  I  was  never  aware  until  then  that  Iwas 
an  especial  favorite  of  my  preceptress;  but  the  fact 
that  she  left  the  other  scholars  to  remove  the  soot 
and  dust  from  their  own  garments  as  best  they  could, 
while  she  took  pains  to  dust  my  jacket  in  a  way  that 
was  quite  touching  to  my  sensitive  nature,  caused 
me  to  feel  in  a  most  striking  manner  the  warm  assur- 
ance of  her  partiality. 

I  wonder  how  many  of  my  old  mates  are  yet  living 
who  studied  under  the  irascible  Noble,  who  held 
forth  on  the  north  side  of  Lake,  west  of  State,  and 
whose  invariable  threat  for  the  infraction  of  his  Dra- 
conian laws  was — "  I'll  tak  ye  by  the  nape  of  the  neck 
and  schlack  of  yer  breeches  and  hist  ye  down  sthairs, 
and  lave  ye  all  full  of  gebumps,  that  I  will."  We 
mumbled  the  Lord's  prayer  with  careless  lips  upon 
the  opening  of  the  morning  session,  read  a  chapter 
of  the  Bible  in  mock  unison,  and  then  read  at  the  top 
of  our  voices  as  rapidly  as  possible  every  word  in  40 
pages  of  the  coarse  print  in  Kirkham's  Grammar. 
Those  who  got  through  first  won  the  coveted  reward 
of  being  permitted  to  do  as  they  pleased  until  the 


212  EARLY  CHICAGO 

drones  had  finished.  Other  studies  were  pursued 
along  the  same  desirable  and  efficient  lines. 

I  recall  the  occasion  when  "  Hub."  Bigelow, "  Buck" 
Williams,  and  several  more  of  our  athletic  mates,  pre- 
vailed upon  our  nervous  pedagogue  to  give  us  two 
hours  recess  one  afternoon  that  we  might  see  "Sam 
Patch"  jump  from  the  yard  arm  of  a  vessel  near 
Dearborn  street  into  the  river.  I  remember  that 
after  that  worthy  had  collected  what  dimes  he  could, 
and  was  about  to  make  his  thrilling  jump,  he  shouted  : 
"  Prepare  for  kingdom  come,  so  here  I  go." 

I  think  it  was  in  1843  that  I  went  to  this  impulsive 
Irishman,  but  I  could  not  have  remained  long,  for  in 
that  year  I  went  to  school  in  Chapman's  three  storied 
brick  on  the  southwest  corner  of  Randolph  and  Wells. 

I  always  remember  Rumsey  and  Collins  as  two 
teachers  whose  only  qualifications  were  the  posses- 
sion of  monkey  cunning  and  heartless  tyranny,  Rum- 
sey, especially,  was  another  Squiers,  and  for  fear  some 
slight  misdemeanor  might  escape  his  vigilant  eye 
and  go  unpunished,  he  appointed  monitors,  who 
often  bore  false  witness  against  those  whom  they 
dasired,  for  personal  reasons,  to  see  punished;  and 
who,  like  the  southern  oversees  in  slavery  times, 
were  much  more  cruel  than  the  masters  who  employed 
them.  These  vicious  sleuths  well  deserved  the  de- 
testation of  their  smaller  fellows,  and  received  noth- 
ing from  the  head  tyrant  but  cynical  smiles  for  the 
base  treatment  they  subjected  the  pupils  to.  This 
school  building  was  two  storied,  and  located  on  the 
southeast  corner  of  Dearborn  and  Madison.  The 


OS 


SCHOLARS  AND  SCHOOLING          213 

second  story  was  reached  by  outside  stairs  at  the  east 
end,  starting  at  the  south  side.  It  was  the  only 
school  structure  owned  by  the  city  until  the  con- 
struction of  the  Dearborn  school  in  the  spring  of 
1845. 

I  endured  the  tyranny  of  A.  Z.  Rumsey  only  a 
short  time,  transferring  my  books  to  a  private  school, 
taught  by  S.  C.  Bennett,  on  the  southwest  corner  of 
State  and  Madison.  This  building  was  built  in  1839, 
and  occupied  as  a  school  room  by  George  C.  Collins 
before  Mr.  Bennett.  It  must  have  been  in  1844  that 
I  took  this  flight,  for  I  remember  running  over  the 
foundations  of  St.  Mary's  church,  then  building  on 
the  southwest  corner  of  Madison  and  Wabash.  Our 
playground  was  literally  all  out  of  doors,  there  being 
but  few  residences  and  no  stores  in  the  neighborhood. 
In  fact  we  had  the  free  use  of  almost  the  entire  region. 
A  few  blocks  or  parts  of  blocks  were  fenced  in  for  gar- 
dens, but  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  school  we 
could  indulge  in  a  game  of  "two  old  cat,"  or  in  the 
hilarious  sport  of  base  ball. 

We  had  no  regulation  balls  or  clubs,  or  even 
rules.  No  fenced  arena  with  grand  stands  and  fifty 
cents  admission.  Fortunate  was  the  boy  who  was 
able  to  appropriate  an  old  rubber  shoe  as  a  foundation 
for  his  ball.  More  frequently  did  we  have  to  resort 
to  the  use  of  a  large  cork  or  several  smaller  ones  for 
the  center.  But  a  rubber  cut  in  narrow  strips  was 
the  ideal  nucleus,  wound  tightly  with  the  yarn  ob- 
tained from  an  ancient  stocking  which  we  were  allow- 
ed to  unravel  by  the  grace  of  an  indulgent  mother, 


214  EARLY  CHICAGO 

and  the  whole  covered  as  best  we  could  with  a  piece 
of  canvas.  If  fortunately  we  had  fathers  who  were 
inclined  to  humor  us,  and  whose  worldly  possessions 
would  justify  our  calling  in  the  aid  of  a  cobbler  or 
harness  maker  to  furnish  a  true  leather  cover,  we 
were  the  envy  of  the  town.  The  parents  of  such  boys 
were  set  up  on  an  imaginary  pedestal  and  idolized  by 
the  whole  fraternity  of  kids.  Then  the  ball  club  was 
another  achievement  of  art  and  patience.  If  we 
could  get  a  strip  of  2^-mch  plank,  and  had  time  to 
make  a  round  bat  of  it,  we  did  so.  Otherwise  an 
inch  paddle  would  answer  the  purpose  very  well;  and 
thus  equipped  we  were  ready  for  fun  and  lots  of  it. 

There  was  another  species  of  sport  which  some  of 
the  larger  boys  indulged  in  that  bothered  father  Ben- 
nett outrageously.  The  house  being  situated  as  it 
was,  the  door  to  the  residential  part  faced  north. 
It  got  to  be  a  favorite  pastime  with  those  "  big  enough" 
to  ring  the  bell  in  the  evening  and  then  rush  around 
the  corner.  This  became  of  so  frequent  occurrence 
that  the  old  gentleman  thought  he  would  put  a  stop 
to  it.  So  he  seated  himself  in  the  hall  one  evening 
with  the  same  ferule  that  Dick  Hamilton,  Bill  Bates, 
and  some  of  the  rest  of  us  were  familiar  with,  and 
awaited  hie  victim,  who  upon  that  particular  occa- 
sion happened  to  be  a  worthy  young  gentleman,  who 
had  come  to  call  on  one  of  his  daughters.  Our  Romeo 
rang  the  bell,  innocently  stood  his  ground,  and  sud- 
denly received  a  much  warmer  reception  than  he 
had  anticipated.  We  thought  this  just  glorious. 

It  was  Mr.  Bennett  who  taught  me  how  to  write. 


SCHOLARS  AND  SCHOOLING          215 

I  remember  distinctly  his  patient  efforts  to  instruct 
me,  mending  my  quills  and  doing  the  best  he  could 
to  get  me  to  follow  the  stereotyped  copies: 

"Many  men  of  many  minds, 
Many  birds  of  many  kinds." 

But  mine  were  ever  a  poor  imitation  of  the  copy  I 
tried  to  follow. 

In  1845  I  became  a  disciple  of  A.  D.  Sturtevant, 
principal  of  Dearborn  School,  No.  1,  the  first  brick 
school  building  erected.  It  stood  on  the  north  side 
of  Madison  street,  between  Dearborn  and  State,  a 
little  west  of  the  center  of  the  block.  "The  Big 
Schoolhouse,"  as  it  was  called,  was  regarded  by  many 
as  far  ahead  of  the  requirements  of  the  city,  but  less 
than  two  years  demonstrated  the  wisdom  of  the  in- 
vestment of  $7,523.42. 

I  always  respected  Mr.  Sturtevant,  as  did  almost 
every  scholar  in  the  building.  He  put  us  on  our  honor, 
which  is  a  good  way  to  handle  a  boy  of  spirit.  He 
did  not  make  crime  of  a  little  mischief,  and  while  a 
good  disciplinarian,  he  never  punished  beyond  the 
merits  of  the  offense.  A  quiet  word  from  him  left  a 
better  mark  than  a  bottle  of  ink  hurled  at  the  head 
of  a  whispering  boy  by  a  despot  with  uncontrollable 
temper. 

My  first  attempt  "  to  speak  in  public  on  the  stage  " 
was  in  Mr.  Payne's  school  previous  to  this,  and  was 
a  dismal  failure.  I  started  all  right  but  my  hands 
got  into  my  pockets  and  my  heart  into  my  throat, 
until,  with  a  hysterical  laugh,  in  a  flood  of  tears,  I  sat 
down  amid  the  suppressed  snickers  of  my  cruel  mates. 


216  EARLY  CHICAGO 

It  was  several  weeks  before  I  got  Sir  John  Moore  prop- 
erly buried.  The  300  scholars  in  the  Dearborn  did 
not  give  me  the  stage  fright  that  these  20  did  over  on 
Lake  street  a  few  years  before.  Mr.  Sturtevant  in- 
sisted upon  compositions  and  declamations  on 
Wednesday  afternoons.  Upon  the  first  occasion  few 
were  prepared  to  speak,  notwithstanding  the  ample 
notice  he  had  given.  He  ordered  the  delinquents  to 
go  to  the  platform  and  say  something.  The  first  boy 
to  venture  on  dangerous  ground  was  Ed.  Wright,  one 
of  the  largest  pupils,  who  recited: 

"I  went  behind  the  barn,  got  down  upon  my  knees 
And  liked  to  die  a  laughing  to  hear  a  turkey  sneeze." 

The  encore  which  he  received  stimulated  Marcellus 
Wheeler — a  cousin  of  mine,  to  go  one  better,  in 

"The  rose  is  red,  the  violet's  blue, 
The  devil's  black,  and  so  are  you." 

pointing  his  finger  to  Mr.  Sturtevant  as  he  repeated 
the  last  line.  Mr.  Sturtevant  laughed  with  the  boys,  and 
told  them  they  had  now  done  as  they  pleased  and 
hereafter  he  expected  that  they  would  treat  him  fairly 
by  doing  as  he  pleased,  by  being  prepared  with  suit- 
able pieces.  They  were.  Mr.  Sturtevant  had  but 
little  trouble  with  the  five  hundred  and  forty-three 
pupils  he  and  his  two  assistants  had. 

I  suppose  I  should  give  Prof.  Wilson  credit  for 
being  the  most  thorough  and  competent  instructor  I 
ever  had;  but  he  was  a  harsh  man.  He  left  the  im- 
press of  his  tyranny  on  the  emaciated  features  of 


SCHOOLMASTER  BENNETT  "SWATTING"  A  PUPIL. 


SCHOLARS  AND  SCHOOLING  217 

his  poor,  frightened  wife,  whose  kindness  and  ability 
won  the  love  and  sympathy  of  every  scholar. 

When  I  was  old  enough  to  regret  my  lack  of  educa- 
tion, and  became  possessed  of  the  desire  to  make  up, 
by  diligent  application,  for  the  many  years  which  my 
conscience  accused  me  of  having  wasted,  I  had  the 
inestimable  privilege  of  going  for  some  two  years  to 
the  teacher  par  excellence,  M.  B.  Gleason,  who  had  a 
Normal  school  on  Jefferson  street.  I  attended 
about  the  middle  of  the  century.  Jesse  B.  Thomas 
had  charge  of  some  of  the  classes,  and  Leopold  Meyer, 
now  the  retired  banker,  was  teacher  of  German.  This 
school  sealed  the  fate  of  a  number  of  scholars  for  life. 
Hiram  Murphy  married  his  school  mate,  Ellen  Wilde, 
David  M.  Ford  married  Miss  Barnes,  Jesse  Thomas, 
his  scholar,  Abby  Eastman,  and  Julia  E.  Hart  has  been 
my  wife  nearly  long  enough  for  the  golden  wedding. 
Sarah  Wright  married  out  of  the  school  family  the 
pioneer  youth,  H.  H.  Handy.  Her  father  was  R.  K. 
Swift's  head  man  until  the  failure  of  the  large-hearted, 
eccentric  banker. 

After  leaving  the  Normal,  I  again  took  up  Latin, 
of  which  I  had  always  been  fond,  in  company  with 
H.  L.  B.  Marsh,  Jesse  Thomas  being  our  tutor.  I 
did  this  with  a  view  of  fitting  myself  for  college,  but 
as  I  did  not  have  a  predilection  for  either  of  the  so- 
called  learned  professions,  my  parents  were  not  much 
in  favor  of  my  receiving  a  collegiate  education.  I  was 
not  personally  anxious  to  do  so  myself,  and  so  I  con- 
cluded to  learn  the  drug  business,  for  which  my 
brother  was  already  fitting  himself. 


218  EARLY  CHICAGO 

The  best  school  I  ever  attended,  and  the  one  in 
which  I  was  most  interested,  was  the  Chicago  Lyceum, 
an  outgrowth  of  the  Normal  School  Lyceum,  which 
was  organized  by  the  scholars  of  Gleason's  Normal 
school  in  1851. 

I  recall  many  delightful  evenings  that  we  boys  and 
the  girls — who  were  honorary  members — had  toge- 
ther. 

We  used  to  be  strict  in  fining  members  who  were 
absent  or  failed  to  discharge  the  duties  assigned 
them,  unless  they  were  able  to  give  a  satisfactory 
reason  to  the  excuse  committee.  One  member,  who 
failed  to  pay  his  dues  without  the  excuse  of  inability, 
was  discharged.  Under  the  record  of  Feb.  22,  1853, 
I  find  the  following: 

"I  protest  against  the  expulsion  of I  retain 

the  privilege  of  giving  my  reasons  at  any  time  I  may 
select.  JAMES  A.  MULLIGAN." 

I  think  there  may  be  some  of  the  General's  ad- 
mirers who  would  prize,  as  I  do,  that  protest  and 
signature.  Our  friend  was  never  required  to  give  his 
reasons. 

Many  of  those  boys  are  still  with  us,  being  well  and 
favorably  known  in  their  respective  callings.  Of  those 
lost  to  view  "but  still  to  memory  dear"  are  General 
James  Adelbert  Mulligan,  the  classical  scholar, 
brilliant  orator  and  devoted  patriot;  his  law  partner, 
Henry  S.  Fitch,  son  of  one  of  Indiana's  U.  S.  senators, 
an  unusually  talented  young  man,  appointed  our 
district  attorney  by  President  Buchanan;  and  J.  J. 
McGilvra,  a  sound  and  aspiring  member  of  the  same 


SCHOLARS  AND  SCHOOLING          219 

profession,  appointed  by  President  Lincoln,  U.  S.  attor- 
ney for  the  Territory  of  Washington. 

I  well  remember  my  first  attempt  to  speak  in  the 
"Normal,"  After  the  discussion  had  been  opened, 
John  Witbeck  asked  me  to  take  his  place  on  the 
negative  of  the  proposition — "That  there  is  more 
pleasure  in  anticipation  than  in  participation."  I  had 
been  accustomed  to  declaim  and  supposed  "thinking 
on  one's  feet"  equally  easy.  When  called  I  arose 
with  proper  dignity  and  delivered  the  first  sentence 
in  a  manner  that  impressed  me  that  I  was  a  regular 
Patrick  Henry,  and  wondered  why  my  peers  in 
other  things  had  failed  so  in  public  speaking.  That 
one  sentence  was  my  last.  My  head  whirled  and  I 
was  lost.  Not  a  thought  could  I  rally  to  my  assistance. 
I  seized  a  candle  and  a  sheet  of  foolscap  on  which  I 
had  hastily  scratched  the  arguments  of  the  opposition 
as  they  had  been  advanced,  but  not  a  word  of  the 
hieroglyphics  could  I  decipher.  Humiliated  and 
confounded,  I  sank  to  my  seat,  the  most  mortified 
and  chagrined  youth  who  had  ever  aspired  to  oratory. 

Still  I  was  determined  to  do  better  next  tune,  and 
I  did,  by  not  trying  to  do  better  than  the  other  boys. 
About  five  years  of  hard,  persistent  effort  enabled 
me  to  obtain  a  fair  facility  in  this  most  interesting  art. 
In  the  course  of  time  we  moved  to  Sawyer's  Female 
Seminary  on  Clark  street,  where  we  were  frequently 
favored  with  a  full  house  when  a  question  of  general 
interest  was  presented. 

I  have  dwelt  thus  upon  my  educational  facilities  as 
being  a  representative  case.  There  was  scarcely  a 


220  EARLY  CHICAGO 

man  or  woman  who  spent  their  school  days  in  Chicago 
in  the  thirties  or  forties  who  did  not  have  similar 
experiences;  and  if  they  ever  advanced  beyond  the 
point  where  they  were  left  by  their  early  teachers, 
it  was  in  spite  of  their  elementary  instruction  and  not 
because  of  it. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

STREETS  AND  ROADS 

We  who  saw  the  earliest  streets  of  our  city  in 
those  olden  times,  and  see  them  at  present,  must 
be  struck  with  the  power  of  heredity  in  their  develop- 
ment. They  were  begot  in  mud,  born  in  mud  and 
bred  in  mud,  and  the  present  slime  and  filth  of  them 
is  only  a  refined  form  of  the  original  family  trait. 
With  the  knowledge  that  we  possess  of  their 
progeniture,  we  cannot  but  be  lenient  to  them  of 
the  present  day  and  generation,  and  should  pity 
them  for  bad  inheritance  rather  than  blame  them 
for  bad  habits. 

Lake  shore  sand  being  the  best  material  available 
was  early  employed  to  top  dress  the  principal  business 
streets,  and  for  a  few  moments  made  a  neat  and  at- 
tractive appearance;  but  it  was  a  delusion  and  a  snare, 
being  wholly  insufficient  to  support  any  weight. 
The  loaded  vehicles  cut  through  and  mixed  the  yield- 
ing sand  with  the  unyielding  mud. 

"  The  signs  of  the  times  "  placed  in  all  the  thorough- 
fares in  spring  and  fall  were,  "NO  BOTTOM."  "TEAM 

UNDERNEATH."    "  ROAD  TO  CHINA."    "  STAGE  DROPPED 
THROUGH." 

An  old  hat  placed  upon  top  of  the  mud  to  indicate 
where  the  wearer  was  last  seen,  with  the  placard  of 

221 


222  EARLY  CHICAGO 

"Man  Lost"  above  it  were  familiar  warnings  where 
not  to  go;  but  where  to  drive  could  only  be  ascer- 
tained by  repeating  experiments  like  others,  with 
probably  similar  results. 

Luther  Nichols,  who  came  with  the  troops  in  1832, 
and  who,  in  time,  became  our  Captain  of  Police,  had 
a  number  of  carts  and  drays.  It  was  customary  for 
him  to  take  us  with  his  own  children  to  and  from 
school  in  one  of  his  carts  when  water  was  too  deep 
and  the  mud  too  thick  for  us  to  reach  our  destina- 
tion in  any  other  way. 

Many  a  time  have  I  seen  men  as  well  as  ladies 
carried  around  the  city  in  this  manner.  In  fact  he 
was  our  pioneer  livery  man,  and  his  carts  were  much 
sought  after  to  carry  guests  to  parties,  balls  and  all 
such  entertainments  in  bad  weather.  It  was  the 
only  manner  of  transit  in  the  mud  and  water  He 
would  cautiously  back  up  to  receive  or  discharge  his 
load,  in  order  that  the  carefully  robed  passengers 
should  not  become  bespattered.  The  carts  were  the 
first  choice,  but  if  they  were  all  engaged,  gentlemen 
who  could  keep  their  standing  on  the  long,  springless 
drays  would  charter  one  of  them  rather  than  wade. 

But  such  a  state  of  affairs  could  not  be  tolerated 
forever,  and  it  was  finally  concluded  to  try  the  ex- 
periment of  planking  a  few  streets.  In  1836  Amos 
Bailey  was  town  surveyor,  and  the  following  year 
Asa  F.  Bradley  arrived  and  became  his  assistant. 
The  latter  followed  his  profession  almost  continuously 
for  nearly  30  years,  holding,  during  that  period,  the 
position  of  county  and  city  surveyor.  While  city 


STREETS  AND  ROADS  223 

surveyor,  he  suggested  lowering  the  streets  so  as  to 
drain  the  lots  into  them,  and  thus  flow  into  the  river. 
This  was  done  from  Randolph  to  Water  inclusive, 
but  when  the  rains  descended  and  the  floods  came, 
every  step  taken  by  a  team  would  cause  the  planks 
to  be  automatic  fountains,  which  deposited  the 
muddy  water  in  the  vehicles  of  the  unhappy  way- 
farers, or  in  the  faces  and  over  the  clothing  of  the 
pedestrians.  Tiring  of  that  amusement,  the  frolic- 
some planks,  like  many  New  England  boys,  would 
slip  away  from  home  and  go  sailing  around  the  world. 
In  the  spring  of  1849  the  prairies  were  heavily  covered 
with  snow,  which,  melting  rapidly  in  a  warm  rain 
followed  by  a  hot  sun,  caused  a  freshet  in  the  river 
on  March  12th,  which  tore  the  vessels  from  their 
moorings,  hurled  them  wedged  with  enormous  blocks 
of  ice  against  the  bridges,  and  carried  the  entire  mass 
out  into  the  lake.  This  involved  a  loss  to  the  city  of 
$100,000,  besides  that  sustained  by  the  ship  owners  and 
the  merchants  near  the  river,  in  ruined  stock.  I  cannot 
say  whether  this  catastrophe  made  my  old  friend 
so  anxious  to  escape  the  censure,  which  was  heaped 
upon  him  for  his  plan  of  drainage,  that  he  was  willing 
to  have  the  "  yellow  fever"  rather  than  'ncur  it.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  it  was  the  time  of  the  California  gold 
excitement  and  he  certainly  embraced  that  provi- 
dential opportunity  to  absent  himself,  until  the 
bridges  had  been  rebuilt  and  dirt  and  gravel  had  once 
more  been  carted  onto  the  streets  at  a  heavy  expense. 
The  planks  not  washed  away  were  left  as  a  foundation 
for  new  improvements,  soon  to  be  experimented 


224  EARLY  CHICAGO 

with.  The  first  and  best  piece  of  planking  done  under 
the  new  order  of  things  was  on  Wells  street  from  the 
river  to  Lake  street.  The  next  was  the  long  planks 
on  Lake  between  State  and  Dearborn. 

It  is  interesting  to  watch  the  development  of  our 
streets  and  sidewalks  about  this  time,  as  chronicled 
in  the  American.  Its  issue  of  September  10,  1836, 
contains  the  following: 

A  HINT  TO  HOUSE  OWNERS. 

"We  perceive  that  a  number  of  public-spirited  citi- 
zens are  laying  sidewalks  in  front  of  their  houses. 
Let  those  freeholders  who  remember  the  state  of  our 
streets  during  the  rainy  season  take  a  hint  and  do 
likewise." 

Again  in  the  issue  of  August  6, 1836,  we  find: 

STREET  IMPROVEMENTS. 

"The  streets  generally  have  been  thrown  up  and 
graded,  the  gutters  cleaned  out,  thanks  to  our  new 
board  of  trustees." 

That  streets  had  not  all  been  "  thrown  up  "  seems 
certain  from  what  follows  in  the  same  paper  nearly 
five  years  afterwards.  I  quote  a  communication  in 
the  issue  of  Feb.  6,  1841 : 

WASHINGTON  STREET. 

"Mr.  Editor. — I  would  call  the  attention  of  the  Com- 
mon Council  to  the  condition  of  Washington  street,  and 
respectfully  ask  why  it  is  not  graded? 

"  This  street  is  capable  of  being  made  one  of  the 
finest  in  the  city. 

"It  is  80  feet  wide,  running  from  the  Lake  to  the 


STREETS  AND  ROADS  225 

River,  and  joins  the  southern  boundary  of  the  Public 
Square.  The  new  Unitarian  church,  now  erecting 
on  the  street,  will  be  an  ornament  to  that  part  of  the 
city,  and  it  will  not  be  long  before  the  Baptists,  the 
Methodists  and  probably  the  Presbyterians  will  have 
elegant  churches  fronting  on  it.  The  street  is  admir- 
ably adapted  to  private  residences,  and  in  a  short 
time  Washington  street  property  will  be  eagerly  sought 
after.  Will  not  the  Corporation  take  some  steps  to 
open  the  street?  A  CITIZEN.  " 

"A  Citizen"  must  have  felt  flattered  when  at  the 
meeting  of  the  council,  April  26th,  succeeding,  it  was 
"ordered  that  the  Street  Commissioner  submit  the 
proposals  received  by  him  for  grading  Washington 
street. 

"And  that  the  contract  be  made  with  Patrick 
Duffy  and  James  Somers,  for  the  grading  aforesaid  at 
73  cents  a  rod." 

Again,  on  April  13th,  1840  were  the  following 

PETITIONS: 

"By  Alderman  Morrison  from  citizens  of  the  School 
Section  to  have  Monroe  street  turnpiked,  instead  of 
ditching  said  street.  Accepted." 

In  compliance  with  which  the  Street  Commissioner 
was  "ordered  to  let  the  grading  of  Monroe  street, 
3rd  Ward,  (West  Side),  to  the  lowest  bidder." 

July  9th,  1841,  our  people  were  still  petitioning. 
This  time  "for  the  completion  of  the  turnpike  on 
Lake  street,  by  extending  the  same  through  Carpen- 
ter's Addition." 

That  grading  and  ditching  did  not  furnish  perfect 


226  EARLY  CHICAGO 

streets  is  manifest  to  the  careful  student  of  our  early 
history.  A  few  more  newspaper  clippings  will  suf- 
fice to  assure  one  of  that.  I  quote  from  the  American 
of  July  9th,  1836,  with  the  remark,  that  if  our  princi- 
pal business  streets  were  in  the  condition  complained 
of  so  late  in  the  season  as  July,  what  must  have  been 
their  condition  in  the  spring? 

NUISANCES. 

"We  have  received  several  communications  from 
citizens  calling  attention  to  nuisances  in  different 
parts  of  the  town,  the  most  prominent  of  which  is  a 
pond  of  water  on  Lake  street,  corner  of  LaSalle,  in 
the  very  heart  of  the  town,  and  inhabited  by  FROGS. 
It  smells  strong  now,  and  in  a  few  day  more  will  send 
forth  a  most  horrible  stench,  sickening  all  who  reside 
in  the  neighborhood.  Cannot  the  hole  be  filled  up? 
or  is  the  health  of  our  citizens  to  be  sacrificed  for  a 
few  dollars? 

"P.  S.:  If  any  of  the  Trustees  are  fond  of  frog 
music,  they  can  enjoy  a  most  delicious  treat  by 
taking  a  seat  on  the  door-steps  of  this  office  at  the 
hour  of  sunset. 

"The  COMPANY  have,  if  we  are  not  mistaken,  decided 
to  remain  in  their  present  location,  the  whole  season 
unless  disturbed  by  the  Corporation." 

"The  attention  of  the  Street  Inspector  is  particu- 
larly desired  at  a  beautiful  Mud  Hole  in  Water  street 
at  the  end  of  Clark.  It  reflects  but  little  credit  to 
the  town  in  its  present  condition." 

April  17th,  1837,  the  American  contains  the  follow- 
ing: 

OUR  STREETS. 

"Are  the  Corporation  determined  to  make  no  exer- 


STREETS  AND  ROADS  227 

tion  to  improve  the  streets  and  afford  temporary 
relief  to  those  who  are  doomed  to  walk  them?  We 
forbear  to  paint  their  conditions — we  mean  both  of 
streets  and  walkers  Our  grievances  are  intolerable, 
and  CRY  FROM  THE  GROUND  for  redress.  The  Trustees 
may  afford  to  ride  in  their  carriages  or  on  their 
horses — (if  they  have  the  courage  to  attempt  the 
experiment) — but  those  who  are  so  unfortunate  as 
to  be  compelled  to  walk,  when  the  mud  will  allow 
them  to,  should  not  be  forgotten.  There  is  heavy 
cause  for  complaint,  and  shall  the  appeal  be  unheed- 
ed? A  little  exertion  and  expense  of  the  PUBLIC 
MONEY  would  afford  prompt  and  great  relief.  Even 
the  Detroit  system  of  BOARDING  the  sidewalks  would 
be  better  than  nothing.  Are  not  the  Trustees  cul- 
pably negligent  in  the  matter?  We  would  respect- 
fully suggest  to  them  that  if  they  would  exhibit  the 
999th  part  of  their  old  zeal  for  wharfing  privileges 
in  effecting  measures  for  the  improvement  of  the 
town  and  the  comfort  of  the  citizens  and  the  strangers, 
their  services  would  be  fully  as  acceptable  to  the 
public." 

If  such  things  could  be  in  the  city,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  that  some  strange  notes  should  appear 
in  the  out  of  town  items,  only  one  of  which,  however, 
will  I  give: 

"The  Southern  Mail  made  another  arrival  last 
Wednesday  evening  and  some  difficulty  naturally 
arose  in  an  attempt  to  identify  it.  'What  Stage  is 
that  Tom?'  asked  the  agent,  when  it  came  up  to  the 
Post  Office,  'Why,'  replies  a  passenger  from  the 
window,  'don't  you  know  your  own  stage?" 

But  I  see  that  we  have  been  following  an  early 
custom  and  have  taken  to  the  streets,  Let  us  go 


228  EARLY  CHICAGO 

back  to  the  sidewalks,  where  we  can  find  them,  and 
thank  the  landlords  and  house  holders  for  having 
done  so  much  for  our  comfort.  Outside  of  the 
business  districts  the  Common  Council  had  to  enforce 
their  construction;  but  we  will  not  go  into  farther 
particulars,  merely  stating  that  in  a  general  order, 
passed  December  14th,  1840,  2-inch  plank  walks,  4 
feet  wide,  on  3  x  4  scantlings,  were  ordered  on  quite 
a  number  of  down-town  streets. 

Such  walks  would  scarcely  answer  our  purpose 
to-day,  but  at  that  time  they  were  hailed  as  a  grand 
improvement  upon  the  stepping  blocks  previously 
employed.  Yet,  in  truth,  even  stepping  blocks  were 
not  in  such  general  use  as  to  insure  a  person  against 
the  all  prevailing  mud;  nor  were  we  always  certain  of 
our  footing,  where  we  were  favored  with  them,  espe- 
cially in  the  evening.  Sometimes  a  recalcitrant  log 
would  tip  over  as  it  was  stepped  upon,  or,  sliding 
under  the  feet,  would  precipitate  its  disconsolate 
victim  in  the  muddy  abyss  he  was  so  laboriously 
striving  to  avoid. 

It  was  one  of  these  accidents,  frequently  befalling 
the  wayfarer,  that  lent  point  to  the  joking  remark  of 
our  esteemed  friend,  Thomas  Church,  that,  "  He  pick- 
ed his  second  wife  out  of  the  gutter  the  first  time  he 
saw  her." 

Ultimate  relief  was  not  afforded  until  the  adop- 
tion of  our  sewerage  system  in  place  of  the  primi- 
tive surface  drainage  of  former  times.  Elevating 
the  sewers  in  order  to  secure  an  outfall  involved 
covering  them  with  the  streets,  which  brought  the 


STREETS  AND  ROADS  229 

latter  much  above  their  natural  level.  This,  in  turn, 
necessitated  the  raising  of  all  the  houses,  to  accom- 
plish which  required  several  years.  During  this 
period  the  streets  bore  a  strange  appearance,  having 
a  great  variety  of  sidewalk  levels,  and  much  climbing 
was  required  on  the  part  of  pedestrians.  The  feat 
of  elevation  was  successfully  accomplished  without 
any  interruption  to  business. 

Our  roads  outside  the  town  varied  more  than  those 
within  it.  The  Whiskey  Point  road,  leading  to  the 
farm  over  which  I  traveled  so  much,  was  a  fair  sample 
of  them  all.  When  our  summer  birds  were  singing 
in  southern  skies,  when  the  frosts  had  come  and  the 
flowers  gone,  when  the  rains  had  filled  the  ground 
with  moisture  and  the  waters  covered  the  face  of  the 
earth,  making  every  depression  a  slough,  without  a 
ditch  anywhere  to  carry  off  the  accumulated  floods; 
then  the  wheels  sank  to  the  hubs,  and  the  hearts  of 
the  drivers  sank  correspondingly;  then  blows  and 
coaxing  were  alike  unavailing  to  start  the  tired  teams 
and  the  settling  loads.  It  was  at  such  times  that  the 
discouraged  farmers,  wet,  cold,  hungry  and  discon- 
solate, lost  in  mud  and  darkness,  would  cast  their 
eyes  longingly  towards  Whiskey  Point,  as  the  weather 
beaten  mariner  longs  for  a  friendly  port.  For  the 
farmer  knew  that  "Old  Rowley"  had  something  for 
him  in  keeping  with  the  name  of  "The  Point,"  if  he 
could  only  manage  to  get  there. 

The  spring  was  worse,  if  possible,  than  the  fall. 
The  snow  melted  while  yet  the  ground  was  frozen, 
and  during  that  time,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  the 


230  EARLY  CHICAGO 

whole  outlook,  was  a  shallow,  dismal,  cheerless  lake, 
without  a  house,  from  the  ridge  to  the  engulfed  city, 
and  from  Whiskey  Point  to  the  Widow  Berry  Point, 
six  miles  to  the  south  of  it.  Nothing  arrested  the 
vision  but  a  dismal  waste  of  water,  with  the  road 
submerged,  and  so  cut  up  that,  whereas  it  had  been 
almost  impassable  before,  it  was  now  utterly  aban- 
doned. Woe  to  the  farmer  then  who  should  presume 
to  transport  anything  without  a  caravan  of  neighbors 
to  assist  with  extra  teams,  to  "pack"  the  bags  of 
grain  from  one  stalled  wagon  to  another. 

I  remember  when  a  boy,  being  stuck  in  a  slough  a 
little  east  of  Whiskey  Point,  in  company  with  an 
omnibus  load  of  ladies,  who  had  been  spending  the 
day  with  some  friends  on  the  Aux  Plaine.  It  was 
dark  when  our  driver  met  his  Waterloo.  Breaking 
his  harness  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  start  his  load,  he 
went  to  the  city  for  assistance,  leaving  us  to  sing 
songs  and  tell  stories  until  his  return. 

This  Whiskey  Point  road,  crossing  the  Desplaines 
at  Spencer's  tavern,  was  the  main  road  between 
Chicago  and  the  western  towns,  before  the  turnp  ke, 
now  Lake  street,  was  built.  This  pike  and  the  Widow 
Berry  pike  were  for  years  the  only  roads  running 
in  a  westerly  direction  which  had  ditches  to  allow  the 
escape  of  the  water.  Lake  street  became  the  leading 
one,  being  more  direct  to  the  principal  farming  dis- 
tricts, though  it  certainly  had  nothing  else  but  that 
and  its  two  ditches  to  recommend  it.  Occasionally 
efforts  were  made  to  get  the  public  to  unite  on  some 
method  of  improving  these  thoroughfares.  The 


STREETS  AND  ROADS  231 

Berry  Point  was  the  pioneer,  regarding  which  I  give 
the  following:  "  Notice !  The  citizens  of  Cook  and  the 
adjoining  counties  are  requested  to  meet  in  the  Sa- 
loon in  the  City  of  Chicago  on  the  first  Saturday  of 
June  next  at  2  P.  M.,  to  adopt  such  measures  as  may 
be  deemed  necessary  to  effect  the  construction  of  a 
turnpike  road  across  the  prairie  between  Chicago  and 
the  Desplaines  river."  An  editorial  urging  it  says: 

"We  are  inclined  to  think  that  a  good  turnpike  well 
ditched  would  drain  a  good  portion  of  the  wet  prairie, 
so  that  it  might  be  inhab  ted  and  improved.  The 
fall  between  the  Aux  Plaine  and  the  city  is  so  good 
that  there  is  no  difficulty  in  draining  the  intermediate 
country." 

In  the  issue  of  the  American  on  June  18,  1840, 
appears: 

"The  committee  appointed  found  much  better 
ground  than  was  anticipated,  and  to  the  surprise  of 
everyone,  found  by  actual  measurement  that  the  dis- 
tance from  the  city  to  firm  ground  on  Berry  Point  is 
less  than  4^  miles.  The  estimated  cost  is  $3000, 
which  it  is  proposed  to  raise  by  subscription." 

Bids  for  contracts  were  published  July  24.  "  Road 
to  be  65  feet  wide,  elevated  3  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  ground  in  the  center," — afterward  changed  to 
2%,  or  5  feet  to  the  bottom  of  the  ditch.  That 
outlying  territory  has  become  inhabited  and  im- 
proved pretty  generally. 

After  the  Lake  street  pike  was  thrown  up  and 
ditched,  John  Pierson,  a  favorite  of  the  farmers,  who 
for  a  number  of  years  had  been  successfully  carrying 


232  EARLY  CHICAGO 

on  a  tavern  at  Whiskey  Point,  a  little  west  of  Rowley's 
old  stand,  attracted  by  the  pike,  moved  his  caravan- 
sary to  Lake  street,  where  Austin  now  is,  calling  it 
the  Six  Mile  House.  Two  miles  east  of  him  Rollo 
Pearsall  had  his  Four  Mile  House.  These  houses 
were  both  standing  at  the  time  the  Galena  railroad 
was  built,  in  1849.  The  former,  with  two  exceptions, 
being  the  only  house  where  the  village  of  Austin  now 
numbers  its  thousands  of  pleasant  homes. 

There  are  but  few  residents  of  Oak  Park  who  will 
remember  how  we  used  to  obtain  from  the  railroad 
officials  permission  to  have  the  morning  train  (there 
was  but  one  accommodation)  stop  on  the  prairie, 
whence  we  tramped  across  Pearsall's  muddy  field 
to  his  tavern,  where,  in  a  dingy  room,  rilled  with  the 
smoke  of  domestic  weeds,  we  exercised  our  high 
prerogative  of  American  citizenship.  This  carried 
with  it  the  necessity  of  walking  two  miles  through 
the  mud  to  the  horse  cars  at  Western  avenue,  without 
a  sidewalk  to  bless  us,  unless  "  our  side  "  had  a  lumber 
wagon  at  its  service,  to  demonstrate  the  superiority 
of  its  principles. 

But  the  turnpike  was  never  a  success.  The  mud, 
when  in  its  normal  plastic  condition  always  seemed 
to  be  several  feet  deeper  than  on  the  prairie.  The 
clay  of  which  it  was  composed  appeared  to  have  a 
grudge  against  every  living  thing,  horse,  ox  or  man, 
and  threw  its  tenacious  tentacles  around  all  things,  to 
draw  them  down  to  its  infernal  level.  Human  in- 
genuity could  invent  no  rougher  or  more  detestable 
roads  to  travel  over  than  was  the  pike  at  such  times. 


STREETS  AND  ROADS  233 

Once  on  it  there  was  no  escape  to  the  side,  save  at  the 
peril  of  your  life. 

Even  when  some  of  our  courageous  citizens  tried 
in  their  desperate  moments  to  "improve  it,"  and 
made  a  toll  road  of  it,  they  found,  alas!  the  task  too 
much  for  them;  the  ruts  were  too  deep,  the  mud 
too  bottomless.  Huge  stones  were  hauled  on  from 
year  to  year  at  a  great  expense  to  the  disgruntled 
tax  payers,  and  it  was  hoped  that  these  would  form  a 
good  foundation  for  the  improvement.  But  they  only 
stuck  out  at  every  point,  sad  monoliths  of  the  little 
ones  buried  among  the  broken  wheels  and  axles  of 
defunct  wagons.  There  they  stood  in  stubborn 
stateliness,  while  the  largest  of  them  defied  the  best 
efforts  of  the  corporation  to  reduce  them  to  cobbles. 
The  curses  heaped  upon  the  pike  for  so  many  years, 
and  which  the  brute  seemed  to  enjoy,  were  now  di- 
vided between  the  road  and  the  citizens  who  had  the 
preposterous  audacity  to  try  to  reform  that  which  was 
not  meant  to  be  reformed.  The  band  of  presumptious 
men  were  finally  glad  to  relinquish  their  hopeless 
charge  to  the  anathemas  of  the  teamsters  and  the 
public,  who  had  no  alternative  but  to  continue  to 
drive  their  sad,  galled,  prematurely  old,  broken-down 
teams  over  its  ever  changing  surface. 

How  easily  the  lenses  of  the  mind  restore  the  bright 
pictures  of  the  past.  Again  I  am  riding  out  of  town, 
behind  "Old  Charley,"  on  Lake  or  Randolph  street, 
winding  amongst  the  modest  homes  of  the  west  side, 
which  are  scattered  through  the  tall  grass  and  sturdy 
rosinweed,  the  Sylphium  Laciniatum  of  the  drug 


234  EARLY  CHICAGO 

stores,  and  cutting  across  vacant  blocks  towards 
the  stone  quarry  at  Western  avenue,  where,  if  in 
season,  I  stop  to  gather  strawberries,  growing  in  per- 
fection. After  satisfying  my  boyish  appetite,  I  am 
again  heading  for  Whiskey  Point  (now  bearing  the 
less  significant  name  of  Cragin)  over  the  most  per- 
fect of  nature's  boulevards, — the  unapproachable 
prairie  road — which  is  spread  out  before  me  like  a 
long  roll  of  black  velvet,  on  which  the  patter  of  the 
horse's  hoofs  is  almost  as  noiseless  as  the  fall  of  a 
slippered  foot  upon  a  Persian  rug. 

Nature  delights  in  graceful  curves.  And  it  would 
seem  that  the  ordinary,  unpoetic  farmers,  when  they 
started  making  one  of  these  roads,  by  driving  to 
Chicago  with  their  produce  and  back  again,  must 
have  been  in  exceedingly  close  touch  with  nature, 
seeing  that  they  formed  such  beautiful  curves  in  the 
luxuriant  grass  and  bewitching  flowers.  Curves  such 
as  no  landscape  gardener  could  ever  hope  to  equal. 

In  such  a  road  there  is  something  indescribably 
fascinating.  Winding  thus  midst  living  verdure, 
saluted  with  songs  of  larks  and  the  rollicking  notes 
of  saucy  bobolinks,  even  an  ordinary  hack  is  at  times 
inspired  with  the  spirit  and  striving  speed  of  the 
thoroughbred.  Those  of  us  who  in  our  youth  gal- 
loped or  sauntered  along  those  prairie  roads  have 
treasures  stored  up  which  are  never  vended  in  the 
market  place,  are  incompatible  with  a  densely  popu- 
lated country,  and  which  an  advanced  civilization 
cannot  bestow. 

So  many  and  marvelous  have  been  the  changes 


STREETS  AND  ROADS  235 

which  have  occured  within  my  recollection,  that  it 
would  seem  as  though  I  had  lived  a  century  and 
must  be 

NEARING  THE  END  OF  THE  ROAD. 

Still  towards  the  sunset  runs  the  road. 

I  pause  beside  the  way, 
And  fondly  turn  to  where  life's  load 

Upon  me  lightly  lay. 
I  live  in  boyhood's  golden  morns, 

Which  with  their  hallowed  glow 
Reveal  life's  roses,  while  its  thorns 

No  more  amidst  them  show. 

Again  upon  the  root-house  roof 

I  lazily  recline. 
The  sunshine  with  its  warp  and  woof 

Of  wind-swayed  grass  and  vine, 
Forms  couch  a  king  might  envy  me, 

Who,  free  from  manhood's  care, 
Claims  ownership  in  all  I  see 

On  earth,  on  lake,  in  air. 

Beyond  the  roll  of  prairie  wide, 

Where  waves  low  murmers  make, 
A  sail  of  mine  doth  smoothly  glide 

Upon  the  gleaming  lake. 
While  now  and  then  'gainst  sky  doth  float 

(Forerunner  of  to-day) 
The  smoke  of  some  black-funneled  boat, 

That  churns  its  white-foamed  way. 

The  yellow  turbaned  hosts  of  sun, 

That  camped  with  Orient  pride, 
Through  which  from  me  would  cattle  run 

Unseen,  though  by  my  side, 
The  scythe  and  flame  have  put  to  rout, 

The  flowers  all  have  fled; 
While  busy  toilers  move  about, 

Nor  sigh  that  Pan  is  dead. 


236  EARLY  CHICAGO 

No  struggling  teams  do  I  now  see, 

Worn  out  with  heavy  load; 
On  iron  horse,  most  willingly 

These  burdens  are  bestowed. 
'Tis  many  years  since  my  young  eyes 

Saw,  free  from  smoke  and  shade 
Beyond  where  stately  buildings  rise, 

White  caravans  of  trade, 

Yet  memory  retains  for  me 

Those  scenes  I  loved  of  yore, 
I  view  them  as  but  yesterday, 

Through  Time's  slow  closing  door. 
'Midst  rosinweeds  I  tend  the  herds, 

O'er  fields  of  waving  grain 
I  catch  the  songs  of  happy  birds, 

And  I  am  young  again! 


CHAPTER   XVII 

EARLY  REAL  ESTATE  SPECLUATIONS 

The  people  who  in  early  days  passed  through 
Chicago  in  disgust,  looking  for  dry  land,  in  after 
years  told  many  strange  and  pathetic  tales  of  the 
opportunities  they  had  of  purchasing  our  most  valu- 
able lots,  blocks  and  acres,  at  some  nominal  price, 
which  they  scornfully  declined. 

They  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  our  bottom- 
less bogs.  We  have  all  heard  them  talk. 

One  man  said:  " I  was  offered  the  land  where  the 
Brigg's  House  stands  for  a  span  of  horses.  And  it 
was  not  much  of  a  span  either;  and  I  owned  the 
horses,  too." 

He  was  not  like  our  old  time  notary,  John  Hamlin, 
who  was  offered  the  site  of  the  First  National  Bank 
building  and  some  outlying  territory,  for  a  pretty 
good  span;  and  when  he  told  the  story  in  after  years 
and  was  chafed  about  being  a  big  fool  for  not  trading, 
replied,  "The  team  did  not  belong  to  me/' 

Another  said:  "I  was  offered  a  hull  block  about 
where  the  Auditorium  is,  as  nigh  as  I  can  figger  it  out, 
for  $60.  But  mud  was  more'n  knee  deep  on  Water 
and  Lake  streets — the  only  business  streets  there 
wuz  then — and  the  water  was  so  deep  and  the  grass 
so  high  when  the  fellow  and  I  went  out  to  see  the 

237 


238  EARLY  CHICAGO 

land,  I  could'nt  see  it  when  I  got  there.  I  could'nt 
see  the  pesky  town,  nuther,  the  rosinweed  and  slough 
grass  was  so  high,  and  I'd  been  lost  if  I  hadn't  hul- 
lered  after  the  chap.  He  reckoned  I  wasn't  on  the 
buy,  so  he  scooted  back  for  another  Sucker.  Before 
I  got  to  the  tavern  I  was  that  tuckered  out  wallowing 
around  in  the  mud  I  wouldn't  er  gin  ten  bits  an  acre 
fur  the  whole  dod  rotted  place.  I  told  him, — 'No  Siree 
you  can't  cheat  me."1 

Said  another  intelligent  appearing  old  gentleman: 
"  In  the  spring  of  '41  I  reached  here  with  my  family 
from  York  State,  my  wife  and  two  daughters  coming 
in  a  good,  covered  carry-all,  driven  by  my  son,  while 
I  had  a  heavy  span  of  grays  to  a  covered  wagon  con- 
taining household  goods,  clothing,  etc.  I  was  offered 
the  block  about  where  Marshall  Field's  wholesale 
store  is  for  my  wagon  and  team.  There  were  a 
number  of  fine  elms  on  the  property,  I  remember, 
and  it  was  not  far  from  a  yellow  house  on  the  east 
side  of  Wells  street,  where  a  Baptist  clergyman  by 
the  name  of  Hinton,  lived.  But  the  mud  was  so  deep 
and  everything  seemed  so  forlorn,  the  rainy  day  I 
went  out  to  look  at  it,  that  I  made  up  my  mind  that 
I  would  not  take  the  land  as  a  gift  and  be  obliged  to 
live  on  it,  but  please  don't  tell  anyone  what  a  nat- 
ural born  idiot  I  was  in  '41  to  decline  such  an  offer. 
I  was  going  till  I  found  dry  ground,  and  I  found  it  out 
on  Fox  River.  Chicago  is  good  enough  for  me  now, 
though,  and  I  have  sold  my  farm,  bought  a  25-foot 
vacant  lot  on  the  west  side,  three  miles  from  the 
court  house  for  $1,000,  which  I  am  going  to  build 


REAL  ESTATE  SPECULATIONS        239 

on  and  settle  down  with  the  old  lady,  and  we  hope 
to  enjoy  ourselves  for  the  rest  of  our  days." 

One  more  and  we  will  drop  the  subject: 

"  I  was  pounced  on  by  half  a  dozen  land  sharks  as 
soon  as  I  pulled  up  my  team,  in  the  fall  of  '40,  in  front 
of  John  Gray's  Chicago  Hotel,*  and  I  guess  I  would 
have  taken  40  acres  just  west  of  the  South  Branch 
for  $400,  if  I  hadn't  been  afraid  that  I  would  be  cheat- 
ed. The  real  estate  men  seemed  so  anxious  to  sell  I 
was  fearful  they  would  get  the  best  of  the  bargain 
someway.  (Say  in  a  whisper  what  you  think  it's 
worth  to-day.  Don't  let  my  wife  hear  you,  for  she 
wanted  me  to  make  the  ripple,  and  has  always  been 
pestering  me  that  I  didn't.)  But  it  looked  kind  of 
lonesome  over  there,  no  houses,  nor  trees,  nor  hills, 
nor  rocks,  so,  after  resting  a  couple  of  days,  I  pulled 
out  to  Garden  Prairie,  where  we  have  been  ever  since." 

Having  cited  these  instances  of  people  declining 
to  purchase  Chicago  property  "for  a  song,"  we  will 
introduce  a  few  purchases  that  were  made. 

We  feel  skeptical  regarding  the  oft  repeated  story — 
that  "Dr.  Wm.  B.  Egan  gave  Colonel  Beaubien  a 
bottle  of  whiskey  and  a  Mackinac  blanket  for  the 
site  of  the  present  Tremont  House,  disposing  of  it 
again  for  $60,000."  Those  well  acquainted  with  that 
"Fine  Ould  Irish  Gentleman"  and  his  convivial  pre- 
dilections would  believe  almost  anything  except 
that  the  genial,  whole-souled  doctor  would  put  a  bot- 
tle of  whiskey  to  such  a  use;  while  the  temperate  col- 
onel never  placed  so  high  a  value  upon  firewater,  and 

*This  waa  originally  the  Green  Tree. 


240  EARLY  CHICAGO 

kept  blankets  to  sell.  His  son  Alexander,  replying 
to  my  inquiry,  states:  "Father  sold  the  corner  of 
Lake  and  Dearborn  for  $200.  That  is  right,  but  I  do 
not  remember  to  whom.  That  corner  was  vacant 
up  to  1839,  but  I  don't  believe  that  Dr.  Egan — if  he 
did  buy  from  father,  got  any  $60,000  for  that  pro- 
perty, when  there  were  lots  in  the  neighborhood  that 
could  be  bought  at  from  $700  to  $1,000." 

I  presume  Egan  owned  this  corner,  as  I  distinctly 
remember  "  Egan  Row,  "which  was  a  row  of  small 
barrack  like  frames  extending  from  the  alley  north 
towards  Lake  street. 

But  there  was  land  sold  here  at  almost  as  ridiculous 
a  figure.  For  instance,  it  is  affirmed  that  Sheldon 
Graves,  who  came  in  1836  with  a  load  of  provisions, 
traded  his  supplies  with  the  Indians  for  an  acre  of 
land  on  the  southwest  corner  of  Washington  and  La 
Salle  streets.  How  he  could  derive  title  from  his 
dusky  traders  I  do  not  know.  But  as  Fernando 
Jones  has  his  office  on  that  corner,  he  no  doubt  could 
furnish  an  abstract. 

In  that  same  fall  Martin  N.  Kimball  came,  bring- 
ing his  fortune  of  $5.37.  Two  years  afterwards  "he 
secured  a  farm  at  $1.25  an  acre  one  mile  northwest  of 
the  city  limits,  now  worth  on  Kimball  avenue  $50  a 
front  foot." 

Willard  F.  Myrick  was  also  an  1836  arrival.  "  He 
soon  after  purchased  25  acres  for  the  startling  sum 
of  $1,488.80,  nearly  $60  an  acre,  extending  from  26th 
street  to  31st  street  and  from  South  Park  avenue  to 
the  lake.  In  20  years  it  increased  15  acres  from  the 


REAL  ESTATE  SPECULATIONS        241 

washings  of  the  lake.''  A  small  lot  could  now  be 
sold  for  more  than  the  cost  of  the  25  acres. 

The  Kinzie  tract  cost  $1.25  an  acre  in  1830  and 
extended  from  Chicago  avenue  to  the  river,  and 
from  State  street  (including  the  tier  of  lots  on  the 
west  side  of  State)  to  ^the  lake.  I  quote  from  Mrs. 
John  H.  Kinzie  'a  Waubun:  "The  return  of  our 
brother,  Robert  Kinzie,  from  Palestine  (not  the  Holy 
Land,  but  the  seat  of  the  Land  Office),  with  the  cer- 
tificate of  the  title  of  the  family  to  that  portion  of 
Chicago,  since  known  as  "Kinzie's  Addition,"  was 
looked  upon  as  establishing  a  home  for  us  at  some 
future  day,  if  the  glorious  dreams  of  good  Dr.  Har- 
mon and  a  few  others  should  come  to  be  realized. 
One  little  incident  will  show  how  moderate,  in  fact, 
were  the  anticipations  of  most  persons  at  that  period: 

"The  certificate,  which  was  issued  in  Robert's 
name,  he  representing  the  family  in  making  the  ap- 
plication, described  only  a  fractional  quarter  section 
of  one  hundred  and  two  acres,  instead  of  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  acres,  the  river  and  Lake  Michigan 
cutting  off  fifty-eight  acres  on  the  southern  and  east- 
ern lines  of  the  quarter.  The  applicants  had  liberty 
to  select  their  complement  of  fifty-eight  acres  out  of 
any  unappropriated  land  that  suited  them. 

'"Now,  my  son/  said  his  mother,  to  Robert,  'lay 
your  claim  on  the  cornfield  at  Wolf  Point.  It  is  fine 
land,  and  will  always  be  valuable  for  cultivation — 
and  besides,  as  it  faces  down  the  main  river,  the 
situation  will  always  be  a  convenient  one.' 

"The  answer  was  a  hearty  laugh.     'Hear  mother,' 


242  EARLY  CHICAGO 

said  Robert.  'We  have  just  got  a  hundred  and  two 
acres  more  than  we  shall  ever  want  or  know  what  to 
do  with,  and  now  you  would  have  me  go  and  claim 
fifty-eight  acres  more!' 

"'Take  my  advice,  my  boy/  repeated  his  mother, 
or  you  may  live  one  day  to  regret  it.' 

"'Well, I  cannot  see  how  I  can  ever  regret  not  get- 
ting more  than  we  can  possibly  make  use  of.'  And 
so  the  matter  ended.  The  fifty-eight  acres  were 
never  claimed,  and  there  was,  I  think,  a  very  general 
impression  that  asking  for  our  just  rights  in  the  case 
would  have  a  very  grasping,  covetous  look.  How 
much  wiser  five  and  twenty  years  have  made  us." 

There  were  others  who  believed  that  good  farms 
could  be  made  of  Chicago  acres,  by  properly  ditching 
them,  wet  as  they  often  were.  John  McGaven,  with 
an  eye  to  the  river  drainage,  settled  on  Madison  near 
Franklin.  James  McGraw  liked  Madison,  but  as  he 
wanted  to  raise  some  fruit  he  went  a  mile  beyond  the 
city  limits,  to  get  away  from  the  boys,  and  located 
on  Madison  near  Western  avenue.  John  McGlashen 
selected  the  beautiful  grove  on  the  east  side  of  the 
South  Branch,  about  25th  street.  John  and  Patrick 
Welch  planted  potatoes  about  three  blocks  north. 
George  W.  Green  raised  greens  about  12th  and 
Throop  streets.  Hiram  Hastings,  as  I  remember 
him,  was  not  hasty  in  his  movements  and  kept  "close 
in"  as  we  now  call  it,  on  Clark  near  Adams  streets. 
One  of  Napoleon's  officers,  Florimand  Canda,  being 
a  little  aristocratic  in  his  tastes,  selected  North 
Wells  street.  He  afterwards  located  near  Chicago 


REAL  ESTATE  SPECULATIONS        243 

avenue  at  Oak  Park,  combining  with  his  plodding 
toil  the  graceful  art  of  dancing,  in  which  he  gave 
lessons  to  the  elite  of  the  north  side,  riding  to  the 
city  for  that  purpose.  Father  frequently  met  him 
and  declared  that  he  made  the  finest  appearance  on 
horseback  of  any  man  he  ever  saw.  Our  eminent 
fellow  citizen,  Mancel  Talcott,  in  his  "North  Western 
Passage"  for  wealth,  might  have  been  found  in  the 
mud  of  Milwaukee  avenue. 

None  of  these  places  are  being  tilled  to-day  by  the 
men  who  then  owned  and  worked  them  or  by  their 
descendents.  With  the  exception  of  Galewood,  I 
know  of  no  farm  within  the  city  limits  which  is  still 
held  mostly  by  the  original  enter  or  his  family,  and 
that  has  continued  to  be  used  for  its  original  purpose. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

ADVERTISING  AND  BUSINESS 

The  original  business  of  Chicago  was  fur  trading 
and  Indian  barter.  A  great  number  of  Indians  were 
accustomed  to  hunt  and  trap  in  our  vicinity,  and 
others  came  here  to  dispose  of  their  furs,  either  to 
the  traders  or  Government  Factor.  The  profits 
Uncle  Sam  received  from  trade  at  this  point  were 
not  so  large  as  the  income  now  derived  from  the 
same  territory;  nevertheless  it  was  with  considerable 
pride  that  the  agents  reported  that  between  1807 
and  1811  the  income  was  $3,725.  Some  sixteen 
years  before  our  arrival,  in  1818  and  1819,  the  Gov- 
ernment Factor  bought  189  deer  skins,  71  bear,  1182 
raccoon,  16  fox  and  27,077  muskrat;  which  figures, 
of  course,  do  not  include  the  purchases  of  the  several 
traders.  In  1831  thirteen  merchants  each  took  out 
the  necessary  license  of  $5.  Most  of  these  worthies 
were  Indian  traders  from  necessity.* 

At  the  time  of  our  coming,  in  1835,  there  were  33 
business  houses,  including  Indian  traders,  druggists, 
storehouse  firms,  etc.,  not  counting  seven  shops  and 
six  hotels.  We  have  already  given  a  general  idea 
of  these.  As  a  suggestion  of  how  business  was  trans- 

*Alexander  Robinson,  J.  B.  Beaubien,  Robert  A.  Kinzie,  B.  H.  Lough- 
ton,  Medore  Beaubien,  Samuel  Miller,  Joseph  Laframboise,  James  Beadin, 
Oliver  Newberry,  Nicholas  Bohvin,  Peck,  Walker  &  Co.,  Joseph  Naper, 
Brewster,  Hayden  &  Co. 

245 


246 


EARLY  CHICAGO 


acted  in  those  times,  it  is  interesting  to  look  over 
some  of  the  advertisements  and  announcements 
that  appeared  from  time  to  time  in  the  papers. 
Especially  interesting  to  me  and  other  druggists  is 
the  following,  which  appeared  in  the  Chicago  Amer- 
ican of  Saturday,  April  23,  1835,  and  which  I  copy 
for  my  old  friends  of  the  Veteran  Druggists'  Associa- 
tion, that  they  may  compare  the  stock  carried  by  the 
trade  in  the  thirties,  with  what  they  now  have  on 
their  shelves: 

DRUGS,  MEDICINES,  DYE  WOODS,  DYE 

STUFFS,  ETC. 

The  subscriber  offers  at  wholesale  and  retail  an  extensive 
assortment  of  genuine  Drugs,  Medicines,  Dye  Stuffs,  &c.,  &c., 
among  which  are  the  following: 


Opium 

Alum 

Camphor 

Magnesia 

Castor  Oil 

Brimstone 

Sulphur 

Epsom  Salts 

Glauber  do. 

Rochelle  do. 

Borax  Crude 
do.    Refined 

Calomel 

Jalap 

Ipecac 

Liquorice  Ball 
do.      Refined 
do.      Root 

Red  Precipitate 

White     do. 


Logwood 
Nicaragua 
Fustic 
Camwood 
Annatto 
Sulphur  Ferri 
Sulph.  Cupri 
Oil  Vitriol 
White  do. 
Sugar  Lead 
Madder 
Indigo 
Nutgalls 
Chrome  Yellow 
Chrome  Green 
Cochineal 
Saltpetre 
Pink  Root 
Cream  Tartar 


Prussian  Blue 
Drop  Lake 
Aqua  Fortis 
Rotten  Stone 
Pumice  Stone 
Gum  Copal 

do.  Arabic 

do.  Shellac 

do.  Myrrh 

do.  Assafoetida 

do.  Scammony 
Senna 
Rhubarb 

Spirits  Turpentine 
Lamp  Black 
Silver  Black  Lead 
Lemon  Syrup 
German   Wine  Bitters 
Essential  Oils 
Perfumery 

Tooth  Powder  &  Paste 
Russian  Isinglass 
American     do. 


Sulphate  do. 

Surgical  Instrum'nts  Trusses 
Thermometers  Shaving  Soap 

Nit.  Silver  Tooth  Brushes 

Ext.  Henbane  Blue  Pill  Mass 

Druggists,  merchants  and  others,  will  find  it  to  their  advantage 
to  call  before  they  purchase  elsewhere. 

PHILO  CARPENTER. 


ADVERTISING  AND  BUSINESS        247 

POTATOES. 
1,000  Bushels  Potatoes  for  sale  by 

PHILO  CARPENTER. 

GARDEN    SEEDS.  ! 

13  Boxes  Fresh  Garden  Seeds. 

Also  Onion  Seeds  by  the  pound. 
For  sale  by 

PHILO  CARPENTER. 

LEATHER. 

A  large  quantity  of  Sole  Leather 

Bridle  do. 

Collar  do. 

Upper  do. 

Russet  do. 

Patent  do. 
Calcutta  Kip  Skins 
Russet  Calf       do. 
Hog                   do. 
20  Dozen  Morocco  &  Sheep  do.  for  sale  by     . 

PHILO  CARPENTER. 


November   llth,    1835,   Philo  Carpenter's  adver- 
tisement includes: 


STOVES,  HOLLOW-WARE    &    CASTINGS.   . 

Then  follows  a  list  of  almost  everything  found  in  the 
households  of  the  day,  many  of  which  present  house- 


248  EARLY  CHICAGO 

keepers  would  be  puzzled  to  conceive  what  use  they 
could  be  put  to,  even  Jew's  harps  for  the  youngsters. 
He  offers  road  scrapers,  wagon  boxes,  cart  boxes, 
ploughs,  mill  irons,  etc.,  etc.  As  a  balm  to  the  mem- 
bers of  the  family  who  are  indulging  in  rheumatism, 
fever-sores,  prairie  itch,  and  99,999  other  physical 
discomforts  he  offers  sulphur  and  chemical  plaster. 

There  must  have  been  considerable  maple  sugar 
made  around  this  neck  of  woods  in  those  days  by 
the  Indians  and  whites,  for  Carpenter  competed  with 
the  hardware  men,  Henry  King  and  others,  in  the 
sale  of  maple  sugar  kettles. 

In  one  place  W.  H.  &  A.  F.  Clarke,  the  fourth  drug 
concern,  enumerated  134  items,  besides  the  various 
kinds  of  sugars,  teas,  liquors,  cigars,  pickles,  sauces, 
jellies,  etc.,  etc. 

Had  the  position  of  Postmaster  of  the  Town  of 
Chicago  been  as  lucrative  then  as  it  is  supposed  to  be 
now,  the  Chicago  American  would  probably  have  not 
contained  the  following  in  its  issue  of  April  23,  1836: 


WHISKEY. 

100  BBLS.  OLD  WHISKEY, 

Just  received  on  consignment,  and  for 
sale  low  for  the  quine,  by  J.  S.  C.  HOGAN. 


Wonder  what  a  wholesale  liquor  dealer  would 
ship  on  an  order  for  "the  quine"  in  this  year  of  our 
Lord? 


ADVERTISING  AND  BUSINESS        249 

John  evidently  combined  a  little  real  estate  with 
his  regular  store,  having: 


TO   LET 

A  Blacksmith  shop,  and  an  office  suit- 
able for  a  professional  gentleman.  For 
terms  and  location  apply  to 

J.    S.    C.    HOGAN. 


Lotteries  at  that  time  were  not  confined  to  churches. 
The  papers  were  filled  with  advertisements  of  "The 
Virginia  State,"  "The  Union,"  "The  Virginia  Wells- 
burg,"  "The  New  Orleans,"  "The  Virginia  Monon- 
gahela,"  "The  Maryland  State,"  etc.,  etc. 


LOTTERY    &    EXCHANGE    OFFICE 
A.  C.  HAMILTON,  No.  4  Dearborn 


OH!   THE    MONSTER. 
$50,000          $20,000          $10,000        50  of  $100 

VIRGINIA  STATE  LOTTERY 
For  the  benefit  of  the  Mechanical  Benev- 
olent Society  of  Norfolk.      Class  No.  1  for 
1836  to  be  drawn  at  Alexandria,  Saturday, 
April  23,  1836. 

D.  S.  GREGORY  &  Co.,  Managers. 


L.  W.  Clarke  also  advertises  that  he  is  in  the  broker- 
age and  lottery  business,  but  he  does  not  offer  as 


250  EARLY  CHICAGO 

tempting  bait  as  Gregory  does,  nor  does  he  mention 
benevolence. 


CHICAGO  SOAP  &  CANDLE  MANUFACTORY.* 

Charles  Cleaver  informs  the  merchants 
of  Chicago  and  vicinity  that  he  keeps  on 
hand  a  continual  supply  of  hard  and  soft 
soap,  mould  and  dip  candles  of  the  best 
manufacture,  which  ne  offers  at  the  very 
lowest  prices  for  cash,  at  his  Factory  on  The 
Point,  between  the  North  Branch  and  main 
river. 

Nov.  4th,   1835. 


\ 

That  New  Orleans,  Buffalo,  and  New  York  were 
eager  to  share  in  our  growing  business  is  manifest 
by  numerous  advertisements.  Transportation  Com- 
panies galore,  by  Erie,  and  Erie  and  Ohio  Canals, 
Oswego  and  Welland  Canal,  Vessels  and  Lake  Steam- 
ers. Every  last  one  of  the  Chicago  agents,  "  having 
connected  themselves  with  a  line  of  transportation 
wagons  between  Chicago  and  the  head  of  naviga- 
tion on  the  Illinois  river  and  other  points,  will  for- 
ward daily  all  goods  consigned  to  them,  to  any  point 
on  the  Illinois  river,  St.  Louis  or  other  places  of 
destination." 

Those  who  used  to  climb  the  White  mountains, 
but  now  make  the  ascent  by  rail,  may  like  to  know 

*Cleaver's  factory  was  years  afterwards  at  Cleaverville,   now  the  most 
aristocratic  neighborhood  of  the  south  lake  shore. 


ADVERTISING  AND  BUSINESS         251 

that  the  builder  and  operator  of  that  road  was  Syl- 
vester Marsh,  a  Chicago  packer,  who  published  this: 


NOTICE 

All  persons  indebted  to  the  subscriber  will 
call  immediately  and  settle  the  same  with 
G.  Spring  Esq.,  with  whom  all  our  notes  and 
accounts  are  left  for  collection. 

S.  MARSH  &  Co. 
Chicago  Feb.  4,  1836.        Sylvester  Marsh. 


A  man  who  had  the  faith  that  ALL  would  call  and 
settle  could  remove  mountains,  and  he  did  it. 

I  always  entertained  the  idea  that  father  was  an 
honest  man  until  I  saw 


TAKE    NOTICE. 

You  are  hereby  forewarned  not  to  take  a 
certain  promissory  note  drawn  by  me  in  favor 
of  John  J.  Vanriper  for  the  sum  of  $85, 
bearing  date  Dec.  3,  1835,  and  payable  six 
months  after  date,  as  I  shall  pay  no  part  of 
aforesaid  note,  the  consideration  thereof 
having  entirely  failed. 

ABEAM  GALE. 
Chicago  April  7. 


But  father  does  not  seem  to  have  been  the  only 
one  who  adopted  this  method  of  settling  with  those 
Vanrippers,  "wanting  in  consideration,"  for  here 
is  another, 


252  EARLY  CHICAGO 


NOTICE. 

We.  the  undersigned,  hereby  caution  any 
and  every  person  against  paying  or  buying 
a  note  at  hand  given  by  Hiram  G.  Warner 
and  Thomas  Jenkins,  for  the  amount  of  one 
hundred  dollars,  bearing  date  2nd  of  March 
1836  payable  to  J.  S.  Dewey  or  bearer,  due 
on  the  20th  of  June  next.  We  shall  not  pay 
the  same  note,  for  the  consideration  has 
entirely  failed. 

HIRAM  J.  WARNER 
Chicago  April  16.  THOMAS  JENKINS. 


Notes  and  due  bills  did  not  seem  to  be  of  much 
account  in  those  days,  for  here  is  a  man  who  will  give 
one  of  the  latter  away  for  the  price  of  a  card  in  a 
paper.  Witness : 


FOUND 

This  morning  near  the  New  York  House, 
a  Due  Bill  for  $16.75  signed  Isaac  P. 
Blodgett.  The  owner  can  have  the  same 
by  calling  at  this  office  and  paying  for  this 
advertisement. 

March  31,  1836. 


In  1841  Capt.  E.  B.  Ward  sent  from  Cleveland 
80  tons  of  coal  to  Newberry  &  Dole  on  consignment. 
This  was  the  first  ever  received  here,  and  I  guess  that 
the  Captain  concluded  it  should  be  his  last  venture, 
for  it  took  about  two  years  advertising  to  dispose  of  it. 
No  one  wanted  anything  but  wood  stoves,  and  hard- 
ware merchants  did  not  feel  inclined  to  lay  in  a  supply 


ADVERTISING  AND  BUSINESS         253 

of  coal  burners,  for  the  consumption  of  80  tons  of 
coal. 

Stone  cutting,  the  paper  announces,  was  done  at 
Juliett,  111.,  by  Brandon  &  Borland.  This  was  the 
time  when  Waukegan  was  Little  Fort;  Kenosha, 
South  Port;  and  Joliet,  Juliett. 

It  seems  that  those  who  were  hard  up  in  that  period 
of  existence  had  two  chances  a  week* 


BRANCH  OF  STATE  BANK  OF  ILLINOIS. 

Chicago,  January  26,  1836. 
The  Bank  opens  at  9  A.  M.  and  closes  at 
1  P.  M.  Discount  days  are  Tuesdays  and  Fri- 
days. Notes  for  discount  must  be  offered 
on  Mondays,  and  Thursdays,  before  the 
Bank  closes  on  those  days. 

W.  H.  BROWN,  Cashier. 


This  was  the  first  bank,  proper,  in  the  town  and 
was  located,  in  September  1835,  in  the  south  end  of 
Hubbard 's  warehouse,  fronting  on  LaSalle  street. 
William  H.  Brown,  the  cashier  was  father  of  Lock- 
wood  and  Colonel  Charles  Brown.  Ezra  L.  Sherman, 
brother  of  Mrs.  Thomas  Church,  was  clerk.  The 
directors  were  J.  H.  Kinzie,  G.  S.  Hubbard,  Peter 
Pruyne,  E.  K.  Hubbard,  R.  J.  Hamilton,  Walter 
Kimball,  H.  B.  Clarke,  G.  W.  Dole,  and  E.  D.  Taylor. 

At  that  time  our  coins  were  principally  English 
and  Spanish.  Not  much  decimal  silver  had  been 
turned  out  by  the  Philadelphia  mint.  The  great 
storehouse  of  the  white  metal  in  the  far  west  had  not 
been  unlocked.  A  Spanish  shilling  passed  for 


254  EARLY  CHICAGO 

cents,  an  English  for  twice  that  sum.  A  York  shil- 
ling was  of  the  same  value  as  the  Spanish,  8  making 
$1  while  a  New  England  shilling  was  16f  cents,  6  being 
$1.  A  Spanish  pistareen  just  paid  the  legal  price  for 
a  half  pint  of  gin,  18f  cents.  There  were  also  half- 
pennies, or  happenies  as  they  were  generally  called. 
Although  seldom  used  in  this  section,  they  were  com- 
mon at  the  east.  I  have  heard  father  say  that  when 
he  kept  a  meat  stall  in  Faneuil  Hall  Market,  Boston, 
there  was  due  to  a  wealthy  customer  a  coin  of  that 
denomination,  which  the  man  patiently  waited  for 
until  father  could  obtain  it  from  one  of  his  neighbors. 
It  cost  something  to  live  then,  judging  from  the 
following:  "Provisions. — Flour  is  selling  here  at 
$10  and  $12  per  barrel;  pork  $20,  and  $22;  fresh  beef 
10  cents  a  pound;  ham  12  cents;  eggs  (scarce) 
cents  a  dozen;  potatoes  $1.25  a  bushel." 


AUCTION    STORE. 

The  Auction  store  on  the  street  leading 
from  the  Draw-Bridge  to  the  Oak  Woods 
and  Blue  Island  is  in  readiness  to  receive 
goods  to  be  disposed  of  at  private  sale  or 
public  auction. 

J.  BATES,  Jr., 
Chicago   July    15,    1834.  Auctioneer. 


Evidently  Oak  Woods  (now  Cottage  Grove),  Blue 
Island  and  the  drawbridge  were  better  known  than 
Dearborn  street,  which  was  not  then  thrown  up. 

The  second  story  of  Bates'  auction  store  be- 
came in  time  the  Chicago  Theatre,  under  the  manage- 


ADVERTISING  AND  BUSINESS         255 

ment  of  Jefferson  and  McKenzie,  the  former  of  whom 
was  the  father  of  the  great  actor.  It  was  on  that 
modest  stage  with  its  primitive  surroundings  that  I 
heard  Master  Joseph  sing  the  comic  song — "  Lord 
Lovel  and  Lady  Nancy."  Dan  Marble  in  his  Yankee 
characters  was  the  bright  star  of  the  theatrical  firm- 
ament in  the  thirties  and  early  forties. 

Bates  and  his  rival,  Marshall,  had  an  advertising 
method  that  would  now  be  considered  unique.  In 
the  evening  Old  Black  Pete  and  equally  black  George 
White — the  town  criers — would  perambulate  the 
streets  ringing  their  bells,  and  shouting — "  Walk  up, 
gemmen!  Walk  up!  sales  is  bout  to  be  commence 
on  der  berry  bes  kine  of  property.  Walk  up!  Walk 
up !  Gemmen,  walk  up ! "  The  Hoosiers  would  string 
after  them.  When  reaching  the  front  of  Marshall's 
or  Bates',  respectively,  Pete  and  George  would  sing 
Negro  melodies  until  they  drew  out  large  crowds, 
when  the  wily  proprietors  would  soon  have  the  large 
crowds  drawing  out  their  pocketbooks. 

Those  town  criers  were  both  star  performers,  and 
gave  a  better  show  than  a  negro  ministrelsy  with  a 
new  programme  every  night.  As  a  rule  they  treated 
us  to  rollicking  songs,  bubbling  with  merriment,  in 
the  plantation  dialect.  Anon,  as  their  souls  seemed 
shrouded  in  sorrow,  their  sympathetic  voices  rippled 
like  a  brook  of  tears,  as  they  wailed  the  pathetic  story 
of  their  hearts. 

The  winter's  wind  now  beats  the  falling  rain 
From  weeping  clouds  against  my  window  pane, 
As  I  recall  those  "  Ethiopian  Clouds, " 


256  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Whose  bells  and  voices  drew  the  rustic  crowds 
Along  the  walks  and  dimly  lighted  street, 
To  hear  their  songs,  which  oft  they  must  repeat. 
They  seem  to  haunt  me,  those  pathetic  strains; 
Though  lost  the  words,  the  weird  thought  remains. 

I  wish  today  those  words  I  still  might  know, 
Which  Black  Pete  sang,  so  many  years  ago. 
His  soul  seemed  striving  through  a  broken  heart 
Inspired  by  Hope,  to  still  perform  its  part, 
That  they  like  him,  might  some  day  break  away; 
The  wife,  the  child,  the  feeble  mother,  gray, 
From  chains  which  he,  through  God,  had  left  afar 
To  meet  with  him  beneath  the  Polar  star. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

THE  BIRTH  OF  INDUSTRIES 

The  great  financial  panic  of  1836,  so  depressing 
in  every  part  of  the  country,  found  our  state  un- 
prepared to  protect  its  credit  and  redeem  the  paper 
money  it  had  issued,  most  of  which  had  gone  to  im- 
prove rivers  and  build  railroads.  State  bonds  were 
only  worth  from  25  to  50  cents  on  the  dollar.  George 
Smith,  a  keen,  shrewd,  Scotch  business  man  and  his 
co-adjutors  conceived  the  idea  that  more  money  could 
be  made  by  absolutely  MAKING  MONEY  to  loan  at  a 
high  rate  of  interest  than  on  real  estate,  which  busi- 
ness Smith  first  engaged  in,  but  which  was  depreci- 
ating rapidly  in  value.  He  and  his  friends  there- 
fore incorporated  the  Wisconsin  Fire  and  Marine 
Insurance  Company  with  headquarters  at  Milwaukee, 
where  Smith  placed  Alexander  Mitchell,  whom  he 
had  brought  from  Scotland,  as  secretary  of  the  new 
venture.  The  stock  of  the  company  was  $225,000, 
but  they  issued  $1,470,000  in  money,  or  more  properly 
speaking,  certificates  of  deposit  in  denominations  of 
1-2-5  and  10,  which  had  every  appearance  of  bank 
notes.  By  1839  banking  and  brokerage  became  the 
principal  business  which  was  conducted  for  several 
years  on  the  southeast  corner  of  Lake  and  Wells  street, 
where,  in  1836,  Smith  opened  the  Scottish  and  Illinois 

257 


258  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Land  Investment  Co.  I  do  not  know  what  the  com- 
munity would  have  done  without  George  Smith's 
money.  It  was  about  the  only  reliable  western 
currency  in  circulation  for  years,  and  although  its 
issue  was  largely  inflated,  no  person  ever  lost  a  dollar 
from  it.  As  he  redeemed  his  bills  both  in  Chicago 
and  Milwaukee,  it  was  frequently  rendered  necessary 
to  transmit  funds  from  one  place  to  the  other,  which 
in  early  days  could  be  done  only  by  a  special  messen- 
ger. His  nephew,  James  Smith,  made  the  journey 
on  horseback  in  a  day  by  frequent  relays.  It  was  a 
dangerous  mission,  but  by  doing  it  as  secretly  as 
possible  it  was  always  successfully  accomplished. 

To  one  actively  engaged  in  business  through 
"STUMP  TAIL"  times,  which  continued  spasmodically 
through  a  number  of  years,  it  meant  a  great  deal  to 
have  George  Smith's  money  to  depend  upon.  The 
west  should  not  complain,  even  if  the  great  financier 
did  leave  large  holdings  behind  him,  and  return  to  the 
heaths  and  hills  of  his  native  land,  after  furnishing 
for  us  during  so  many  years  the  issue  of  one  bank 
that  never  failed  us. 

The  business  man  of  to-day  is  not  obliged,  as  we 
were,  to  go  to  his  coin-test  bottle  and  apply  acid  to 
the  silver  offered  him,  to  ascertain  if  it  be  from  the 
mint  or  a  counterfeiter's  plant.  Nor  is  it  necessary 
for  him  to  take  lessons,  as  we  then  did,  in  the  art  of 
detecting  a  counterfeit  bank  note,  or  a  genuine  raised 
to  a  higher  denomination.  Nor  need  he  turn  to 
"Thompson's  Bank  Note  Reporter  and  Counterfeit 
Detector"  to  learn  what  frauds  may  have  been  put 


afloat  since  the  last  issue.  About  1857  all  large 
business  centres  had  daily  bulletins  issued,  reporting 
the  latest  value  of  the  thousand  and  one  bank  issues 
throughout  the  country.  Taking  bills  at  those  quota- 
tions was  no  assurance  of  their  permanent  value; 
as  before  we  could  get  the  miscellaneous  trash  to  the 
bank,  some  of  the  printed  rags  might  have  depre- 
ciated 10  or  50  per  cent.,  if  they  had  not  become  en- 
tirely worthless.  Those  were  the  times  that  tried 
men's  "soles,"  hurrying  to  the  bank  on  the  run  half 
a  dozen  times  a  day,  lest  our  tokens  of  generous  con- 
fidence should  disappoint  us.  Such  a  state  of  affairs 
was  disastrous  to  all,  bank  failures  being  of  constant 
occurrence. 

Our  earliest  merchants,  whose  dealings  were  with 
the  Indians,  did  not  require  a  large  amount  of  money 
in  their  transactions,  most  of  it  being  silver  half 
dollars,  which  the  natives  received  from  the  Govern- 
ment. The  bulk  of  the  business  was  barter,  paying 
for  pelts  in  blankets,  calico,  clothing,  guns,  ammuni- 
tion, beads  and  a  variety  of  trinkets,  which  they  re- 
ceived in  return  for  the  furs  they  sent  to  the  fur 
companies  and  other  dealers.  This  system  of  barter 
prevailed  in  later  years  to  a  considerable  extent  in 
purchasing  produce  from  the  farmers.  At  length 
the  amount  of  produce  received  necessitated  finding 
a  market  for  it,  which  naturally  resulted  in  sending 
it  east.  Charles  Walker  was  our  pioneer  grain  shipper ; 
he  sent  78  bushels  of  wheat  to  Buffalo  in  1836.  The 
second  venture  of  any  consequence  was  made  by 
H.  0.  Stone,  who  shipped  on  May  10th,  1839,  700 


260  EARLY  CHICAGO 

bushels  mixed  wheat  to  Buffalo  by  the  side  wheeled 
steamer,  Missouri.  This  second  shipment  from  our 
port  was  large  enough  to  make  it  the  event  of  the 
period.  The  more  frequent  arrival  of  boats  enabled 
merchants  to  ship  east  more  readily,  and  consequently 
they  made  an  effort  to  increase  this  branch  of  their 
business  by  offering  to  pay  the  farmers  and  Hoosiers 
one  half  "store  pay"  and  the  balance  in  cash.  By 
the  fall  of  1839,  Stone,  Newberry  and  Dole,  Charles 
Walker  &  Co.,  Joel  C.  Walters  &  Co.,  Henry  Norton 
and  Williams,  purchased  on  some  days — mostly  for 
cash — from  10,000  to  12,000  bushels  of  wheat,  at 
from  30  to  40  cents  a  bushel.  All  of  this  grain  was 
of  course,  brought  in  wagons  from  the  Wabash 
country  and  the  west.  It  was  customary  for  these 
"forwarders"  to  send  their  buyers  out  on  State 
street  and  Lake  to  intercept  the  Hoosiers  and  farmers, 
and  competition  was  frequently  lively  on  the  street. 
To  make  sure  of  the  proper  delivery  of  the  load,  the 
purchaser  would  mount  the  wagon  beside  the  owner 
and  drive  to  the  place  of  business. 

Previous  to  about  this  tune  most  of  the  grain 
brought  in  was  consumed  at  home.  In  1837,  John 
Gage  built  a  flour  mill  on  the  west  bank  of  the  South 
Branch,  on  the  north  side  of  Van  Buren  street.  It 
was  not  long  before  Jared  Gage  joined  his  brother, 
and,  Van  Buren  street  being  so  far  out  of  town,  they 
opened  a  flour  and  feed  store  on  South  Water  street, 
between  Clark  and  Dearborn,  of  which  Jared  took 
charge.  In  1846,  John  Gage,  "The  honest  miller," 
retired  from  the  business  which  had  been  so  profit- 


THE  BIRTH  OF  INDUSTRIES          261 

able,  and  engaged  extensively  in  the  culture  of 
grapes,  at  Vineland,  New  Jersey.  John  C.  Haines,  who 
reached  here  at  the  age  of  17,  one  day  after  our  ad- 
vent, and  who  literally  "grew  up  with  the  place," 
and  was  for  a  number  of  years  a  member  of  the 
prominent  dry  goods  house  of  Clark  &  Haines,  now 
closed  out  his  interest  in  that  business  and  became 
a  partner  of  Jared  Gage.  They  erected  later  a  large 
stone  mill  on  the  south  bank  of  the  main  river  east 
of  State  street,  where  they  carried  on  a  successful 
business. 

It  was  in  their  office  that  Thomas  Richmond, 
Marcus  C.  Stearns,  Edward  K.  Rogers,  Gage  & 
Haines,  W.  L.  Whiting,  Charles  Walker,  James  Allen 
and  a  number  of  other  citizens  assembled  for  the 
first  time  to  consider  the  question  of  a  Board  of  Trade. 
At  the  meeting,  adjourned  to  March  13th,  1848,  the 
Chicago  Board  of  Trade  was  organized  by  82  business 
men.  It  is  interesting  to  observe  that,  of  the  25 
members  of  the  first  directorate  so  many  were  in  no 
way  connected  with  the  grain  or  forwarding  business. 
George  F.  Foster  was  a  ship  chandler;  C.  Beers,  a 
hardware  merchant;  E.  K.  Rogers,  a  coal  dealer; 
Walter  S.  Gurney,  a  tanner;  I.  H.  Burch,  a  banker; 
Win.  B.  Ogden,  real  estate  operator  and  capitalist; 
H.  G.  Loomis,  a  grocer;  J.  H.  Dunham,  a  grocer; 
Josiah  H.  Reed,  a  druggist;  A.  H.  Burley,  a  book 
seller. 

Thomas  Richmond  was  one  of  the  prime  movers 
in  this  great  enterprise.  I  have  a  number  of  times 
heard  Mr.  Haines  pay  a  high  tribute  to  the  sagacity, 


262  EARLY  CHICAGO 

ability  and  honorable  practices  of  that  early  grain 
dealer,  shipper,  forwarding  merchant  and  progressive 
citizen. 

It  is  interesting  to  mark  the  beginnings  of  some  of 
our  great  firms  and  extensive  business  enterprises. 

Asahel  Pierce,  that  proficient  mechanic  and  honest 
man,  had  a  little  plow  factory  near  West  Lake  street 
in  1835,  which  developed  into  a  large  establish- 
ment for  the  manufacture  of  plows,  harrows  and 
farming  implements.  That  tall,  plain,  dark  visaged 
man  was  a  high  minded  and  valued  member  of  our 
community,  whose  fame  as  a  manufacturer  and  hon- 
orable dealer  extended  throughout  the  west  and 
in  no  small  degree  gave  prestige  to  Chicago  and  made 
it  easier  for  similar  firms  in  after  years  to  market  the 
enormous  outputs  of  their  various  plants. 

Cleaver  and  Kirk  in  their  primitive  soap  factories, 
which  I  remember  caused  me  to  hold  my  nose  when 
in  their  vicinity,  established  prosperous  businesses, 
of  which  the  sons  of  the  latter  are  now  reaping  the 
benefit.  George  Gerts  commened  with  one  man  to 
make  brushes.  By  dint  of  doing  his  best  with 
every  bristle  his  firm  leads  the  west  to-day. 

The  sign  "Peter  Schuttler,  Blacksmith"  extending 
across  the  sidewalk  on  the  south  side  of  Randolph 
east  of  Wells  was  removed  to  the  southwest  corner 
of  Randolph  and  Franklin  where  it  had  another 
board  added  to  make  room  for  the  words  "and 
Wagon  Maker."  Our  plodding  German  neighbor 
owned  in  time  the  lot  and  the  large  factory  covering 
it.  Leaving  his  anvil  to  some  new  arrival  he,  with 


THE  BIRTH  OF  INDUSTRIES          263 

the  constant  companionship  of  his  comforting  pipe, 
made  the  rounds  of  his  ever  growing  establishment, 
and  Peter  Jr.  and  his  brother-in-law,  Chris.  Holtz, 
find  it  almost  impossible  to  supply  the  Mormons  of 
Utah,  freighters  of  the  Rockies,  ranchmen  of  California 
and  the  intermediate  farmers  with  the  Schuttler 
wagon  from  their  mammoth  west  side  works. 

Father  Ryan  said:  "Time  is  best  measured  by 
tears;"  but  it  is  not  so  measured  at  the  McCormick 
factory,  where  a  new  reaper  ticks  off  every  minute  of 
the  day.  Should  the  crop  demand  a  quicker  move- 
ment of  the  sand  glass  it  can  be  accommodated  to  the 
tune  of  eight  or  nine  hundred  a  day. 

John  P.  Chapin  was  one  of  our  early  commission 
merchants,  but  in  1846,  when  he  was  elected  mayor, 
he  was  of  the  wholesale  dry  goods  house  of  Wadsworth, 
Dyer  &  Chapin.  The  two  latter  gentlemen  were  more 
widely  known  in  their  subsequent  business  as  pork 
and  beef  packers,  a  venture  which  assumed  gigantic 
proportions  for  those  early  times.  From  the  dry 
goods  firm  descended  some  of  our  famous  houses. 
In  1847,  the  firm  became  Wadsworth  &  Phelps.  In 
1850,  Cooley,  Wadsworth  &  Co.  James  V.  Farwell, 
who  arrived  here  from  Ogle  county  in  1845,  was  able, 
by  pluck,  ability  and  the  $3.25  he  had  in  his  pocket 
at  the  time  of  his  arrival,  to  fill  the  place  of  Co.  in 
that  large  establishment.  In  1860,  a  young  man  then 
unknown  to  fame — Marshall  Field — who  had  been 
clerking  in  the  house  for  five  years,  became  a  partner, 
together  with  Levi  Z.  Leiter,  under  the  name  of  Far- 
well,  Field  &  Co.  In  about  a  year  Field  and  Leiter 


264  EARLY  CHICAGO 

withdrew  and  bought  into  Potter  Palmer's  establish- 
ment at  110  and  112  Lake  street,  the  firm  becoming 
Field,  Palmer  &  Leiter.  In  1867  Palmer  retired,  and 
in  1884,  Leiter  did.  Upon  the  withdrawal  of  Field 
and  Leiter  from  the  firm  of  Farwell,  Field  &  Co.  hi 
1861,  Charles  B.  Farwell,  S.  M.  Kellogg;  Win.  D. 
Farwell  and  John  K.  Harmon  became  partners  of 
J.  V.  Farwell,  under  the  name  of  J.V.  Farwell  &  Co., 
removing  from  Water  street  to  112,  114  and  116 
Wabash  avenue. 

George  W.  Dole  is  admitted  to  be  "The  Father  of 
the  Provision,  Shipping  and  Elevator  business  in  the 
place."  In  1832  he  built  on  the  southeast  corner  of 
Dearborn  and  Water  streets  a  store  which  is  claimed 
by  many  to  have  been  the  second  frame  erected  in 
Chicago.  In  the  rear  of  this  store,  in  October,  1832,  Mr. 
Dole  inaugurated  the  packing  business  of  the  place, 
by  slaughtering  and  packing  150  head  of  cattle  for 
Oliver  Newberry  of  Detroit.  Charles  Reed  of  Hickory 
Creek  furnished  the  cattle  at  $2.75  a  hundred, 
hides  and  tallow  being  allowed  for  slaughtering, 
which  was  done  by  John  and  Mark  Noble  on  the 
lake  shore.  Clybourn  had  been  butchering  for  a 
number  of  years  for  the  home  market,  but  Dole 
did  the  first  packing  for  the  eastern  trade.  Dole 
supplemented  his  pioneer  work  by  packing  hogs  for 
the  New  York  market  in  December  of  the  same  year, 
being  followed  in  the  latter  venture  by  Gurdon  S. 
Hubbard  in  the  winter  of  '35-'36. 

As  it  was  not  always  going  to  be  desirable  to  butcher 
cattle  on  Michigan  avenue  north  of  Madison  street  and 


THE  BIRTH  OF  INDUSTRIES         265 

pack  them  on  Water  street,  with  no  place  to  keep  the 
cattle  until  ready  for  the  slaughter,  the  idea  of  a 
stock  yard  was  conceived,  the  original  being  estab- 
lished south  of  Madison  street  at  the  corner  of  Ashland 
avenue  in  1848.  But  this  was  never  satisfactory. 
It  seemed  to  be  out  in  the  country  and  with  no  means 
of  reaching  it.  It  was  five  years  after  the  yard 
was  established,  before  Frank  Parmelee  put  on  a  line 
of  omnibuses,  which  ran  from  the  corner  of  State  and 
Lake  streets.  We  had  no  railroads  in  the  city  when 
the  yard  was  started,  but  about  a  year  afterwards 
the  Galena  began  to  crawl  on  strap  rails  a  short  dis- 
tance; but  Kinzie  street  was  too  far  from  Madison  to 
be  of  any  use  to  the  Bull's  Head  establishment. 

On  Feb.  20,  1852,  the  Lake  Shore  &  Michigan 
Southern,  then  called  the  M.  S.  &  N.  I.,  entered  the 
city,  and  on  May  21,  of  the  same  year,  the  Michigan 
Central  arrived,  together  with  the  Illinois  Central. 
These  railways  led  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  be 
better  to  remove  the  yard  to  the  lake  shore,  and  it 
was  accordingly  moved  to  Wm.  F.  Myrick's  property 
in  the  vicinity  of  28th  street.  About  eight  years 
afterwards  this  gave  place  to  the  Union  Stock  Yards, 
with  its  half  section  of  land  and  a  business  that  seems 
incredible.  I  have  no  statistics  at  hand  on  the  subject 
later  than  for  the  year  1898,  but  those  figures  are 
startling.  Bearing  in  mind  that  our  city  claims  to  be 
the  greatest  grain,  lumber,  and  probably  wholesale  dry 
goods  market  in  the  world,  it  may  surprise  our  people 
engaged  in  those  lines  to  know  that  it  is  maintained 
by  the  men  doing  business  on  that  320  acres,  that 


266  EARLY  CHICAGO 

they  do  more  and  handle  a  larger  volume  than  all 
of  the  others  put  together.  I  am  not  prepared  to 
prove  this,  but  $650,000,000  is  a  pretty  high  mark. 
They  also  say  they  employ  75,000  men.  If  that  be 
true,  allowing  that  each  employe  represents  a  family 
of  four  persons,  it  follows  that  the  number  who  de- 
rive support  from  that  half  section  is  greater  than 
the  entire -population  of  the  state  at  the  time  of  our 
arrival,  which  was  in  1835,  272,427. 

But  while  so  many  humans  thrive  on  that  half 
section  it  is  a  dreadfully  unhealthy  place  for  animals, 
as  the  records  show  that  from  15,000,000  to  20,000,000 
die  there  annually.  As  the  poor  fat  things  cannot 
waddle  the  long  distance  that  many  of  them  have  to 
come,  the  humane  butchers  send  more  than  250,000 
cars  all  over  the  country,  that  their  long,  last  journey 
may  be  made  in  comfort. 

In  response  to  the  generally  expressed  wish  of  our 
people,  the  Common  Council  passed  an  ordinance  in 
1845,  establishing  a  Public  Market  in  each  division 
of  the  city.  The  one  on  the  north  side  at  Dearborn 
and  Kinzie,  was  consumed  at  the  time  of  the  Great 
Fire.  The  one  on  the  west  side  was  in  Randolph 
street  extending  west  from  Des  Plaines.  It  was  de- 
molished that  the  space  might  be  used  by  garden- 
truck  venders.  This  was  the  site  of  the  Anarchist 
riot.  The  State  street  market  was  built  in  1848  and 
torn  down  in  1858.  It  was  a  brick  structure  40  x  180 
feet,  fronting  on  Randolph  street  and  extending  to 
the  alley  north.  It  cost  a  little  over  $10,000.  The 


LIBRARY 
OF  THE 

UNIVEKSPY    OF  ILLINOIS 


THE  BIRTH  OF  INDUSTRIES         267 

lower  floor  was  rented  for  general  market  purposes, 
the  south  end  of  the  second  story  being  the  first 
municipal  quarters  owned  by  the  city,  and  occupied 
by  the  city  clerk,  council  chamber,  etc.  The  main 
hall  extending  north  of  the  city  offices  was  used  for 
holding  Mechanics'  Fairs  and  public  meetings  of 
every  description,  and  was  the  connecting  link 
between  the  modest  assembly  rooms  that  had  pre- 
ceded it  and  the  more  modern  places  which  have 
succeeded  it. 

Upon  the  day  we  landed,  Judge  Sidney  Breese  was 
holding  court  in  the  Presbyterian  church  near  Lake 
street  on  Clark,  this  being  the  largest  room  in  this 
section  at  the  time.  It  was  in  great  request  for  pub- 
lic occasions,  until  the  completion  of  the  Court  House, 
which  superseded  it  in  a  great  measure,  and  was  more 
suitable  for  shows  and  miscellaneous  entertainments 
than  a  church. 

The  first  court  house,  at  the  southwest  corner  of 
Clark  and  Randolph  streets,  was  finished  in  the  Fall 
of  1835,  and  at  once  became  not  only  what  it  was  in- 
tended to  be,  but  also  a  place  for  all  kinds  of  public 
gatherings,  meetings,  lectures  and  entertainments, 
superseding  the  Presbyterian  church. 

The  first  floor,  about  level  with  the  ground,  was 
used  for  offices  by  the  sheriff,  surveyor,  recorder  and 
other  city  and  county  officials.  The  ground  floor 
entrance  was  from  Randolph  street.  The  court  room 
was  on  the  second  floor.  It  was  reached  by  outside 
steps  that  extended  the  entire  length  of  the  Clark 


268  EARLY  CHICAGO 

street  front.  The  room  was  very  plain  and  demo- 
cratic, with  windows  on  the  north  and  south,  a  low 
rostrum  in  the  west  end  with  pine  benches  facing  it 
and  extending  about  two-thirds  of  the  way  to  the 
door,  capable  of  accommodating  about  two  hundred 
people.  Plain  as  it  was,  but  few  court  rooms  of  far 
greater  pretensions  have  resounded  with  more  logical 
forensic  effort  or  brilliant  oratorical  speeches.  This 
primitive  court  house  was  occupied  until  1853,  when 
the  new  one  in  the  center  of  the  public  square,  with 
jail  beneath,  was  completed. 

I  do  not  like  to  leave  the  court  house  square  with- 
out giving  some  idea  of  the  various  views  which  were 
held  by  our  people  in  those  early  days  regarding  the 
use  to  which  this  block  should  be  devoted.  The 
eight  lots  comprising  it  had  been  granted  by  the  Canal 
Commissioners  for  public  buildings,  but  many  opposed 
such  a  disposition  of  the  land,  and  urged  that  it  should 
be  used  as  a  park  and  embellished  with  trees  and 
shrubbery,  while  on  June  Fourth,  1835,  there  was  a 
movement  started  "to  form  a  stock  company  and 
build  a  reading  room  upon  it."  On  October  15, 1836, 
there  was  an  editorial  in  the  American  which  advo- 
cated "  building  a  Court  House  opposite  to  the  Public 
Square.  The  recorder's  office,  jail  and  alms-house 
and  engine  houses  already  disfigured  the  grounds, 
and  a  few  more  buildings  would  altogether  shut  it 
from  view."  (The  alms  house  was  on  the  west  side 
of  the  square,  the  other  buildings  on  the  north.) 

At  the  time  of  the  Reservation  sale,  we  find  the 
following  in  its  issue  of  June  15,  1839: 


THE  BIRTH  OF  INDUSTRIES          269 


CITY  BID. 

We  understand  that  the  Common  Council 
have  made  arrangements  to  put  in  proposals 
for  the  purchase  of  the  eight  lots  fronting 
the  public  square.  They  will  probably 
be  offered  to-morrow.  As  the  City  intends 
purchasing  them  for  the  purpose  of  erecting 
public  buildings  hereafter,  it  is  hoped  they 
will  be  allowed  this  small  slice  of  land  with- 
out opposition. 


(The  public  square  alluded  to  was  the  Dearborn, 
where  the  Public  Library  now  stands.) 

There  was  opposition,  however,  and  the  central 
court  house  square,  where  we  used  to  slide,  and  play 
ball,  was  filched  from  the  small  boy  and  desecrated 
by  public  buildings. 

It  was  in  the  summer  of  1836,  while  living  on  Lake 
street,  near  Dearborn,  that  I  watched  the  construc- 
tion of  the  Saloon  building,  which  was  on  the  corner 
west  of  us.  I  remember  I  had  between  my  fingers 
the  eruption  which  was  so  prevalent  in  new  places 
of  this  section,  which  prevented  my  playing  marbles, 
and  so  I  spent  my  time  in  watching  the  fascinating 
work  of  brick  laying.  This  prairie  itch,  by  the  way, 
is  now  happily  an  obsolete  luxury  in  this  locality. 

The  Saloon,  despite  its  name,  was  an  important 
factor  in  the  progress  of  our  city  for  many  years. 
Here  the  Unitarians  first  gathered,  then  came  the 
Universalists,  followed  by  the  Swedenborgians  and 
all  classes  of  respectable  assemblages.  Here  we  went 
to  hear  Temperance  lectures  and  concerts,  and  the 
varied  class  of  entertainments  that  is  offered  in  every 


270  EARLY  CHICAGO 

young  city.  It  was  in  the  Saloon  building  that  the 
Mechanics'  Institute  was  organized,  January  14, 1837. 
Their  library  was  housed  here,  as  was  also  that  of 
the  Young  Men's  Association.  There  are,  no  doubt, 
many  still  living  who  attended  the  instructive  free 
lectures  given  before  the  former  organization,  es- 
pecially the  course  in  Geology  by  Wm.  Bross. 

The  Young  Men's  Association  was  the  outgrowth 
of  the  original  Chicago  Lyceum,  formed  in  1834,  all 
the  aspiring  young  lawyers  in  the  place  being  thus 
afforded  an  opportunity  to  practice  upon  the  won- 
dering listeners,  who-  were  wont  to  assemble  for  those 
inexpensive  entertainments.  It  was  this  association 
which  afterwards  arranged  for  those  winter  lectures 
by  the  ablest  men  in  the  country,  which  were  so  justly 
popular  for  a  number  of  years. 

The  Chicago  Library  Association,  its  proud  off- 
spring, dated  its  existence  from  the  24th  of  April, 
1841,  when  it  was  organized  by  W.  L.  Newberry, 
Walter  S.  Gurnee,  Mark  Skinner  and  Norman  B. 
Judd.  Who  knows  but  what  by  being  elected  the 
first  president  of  this  Library  Association,  Walter  L. 
Newberry  was  led  to  leave  that  grand  monument  on 
the  north  side  to  perpetuate  his  memory,  and  who 
will  receive  the  grateful  homage,  not  only  of  the 
citizens  of  the  present  day  but  of  many  succeeding 
generations,  who  are  to  enjoy  the  advantages  of  his 
colossal  library.  The  single  book  donated  on  April 
24th,  1841,  as  a  nucleus,  had  increased  in  sixteen  years 
to  nearly  5,000  volumes  and  had  been  paid  for,  as 


THE  BIRTH  OF  INDUSTRIES          271 

had  been  all  the  other  expenses,  from  dues  and  volun- 
tary subscriptions. 

Those  lectures  of  the  Young  Men's  Association 
were  given  in  Warner's  Hall,  and  later  in  Metropolitan 
Hall.  The  former  was  erected  by  S.  P.  Warner  on 
the  site  of  his  recent  blacksmith  shop,  south  side  of 
Randolph,  and  was  far  ahead  of  anything  in  that  line 
we  had  ever  before  enjoyed,  even  though  we  were 
obliged  to  climb  two  flights  of  stairs  to  reach  it.  It 
was  a  favorite  place  for  public  entertainments  of  a 
higher  order,  and  was  finally  used  by  Dan  Emmett — 
the  author  of  Dixie — who  long  presided  over  his 
popular  Negro  Minstrelsy  there. 

It  was  in  the  Saloon  building  that  Robert  Fergus, 
a  new  arrival  from  Scotland,  published  the  first  city 
directory,  in  1839. 

Present  compilers  are  not  so  particular  to  mention 
the  calling  of  all  our  people  as  was  he.  For  instance 
we  there  read: 


Harper,    Richard,    called    "Old    Vagrant." 
Rogers,   Wm.   "The  generous  Sport." 
Wellington,   E.   F.    "Gambler,"    Randolph 

near  State. 
Wells,  Seth,  "Chess  player,"  Lake  House. 


In  the  corner,  I.  H.  Burch  had  his  bank.  I  re- 
member the  first  night  gas  was  supplied  the  city, 
Sept.  4th,  1850.  During  the  grand  parade  in  honor 
of  the  event,  an  explosion  occurred  in  the  bank, 
blowing  out  the  front  door  and  creating  great  ex- 


272  EARLY  CHICAGO 

citement.  But  the  energetic  builder,  Jacob  Harris, 
was  soon  there  with  a  gang  of  men  and  material  and 
quickly  had  the  damage  repaired,  leaving  less  to  be 
remembered  and  regretted  than  did  the  banker's 
domestic  difficulties  a  few  years  after.  His  wife 
the  petted  neice  of  Erastus  Corning  and  a  great 
favorite  in  society,  may  have  been  a  little  imprudent, 
and  the  wreck  of  a  happy  home  was  the  result. 

As  the  light  faded  forever  from  that  once  beautiful 
home,  so  did  the  glory  of  our  old  Hall  fade  away  in 
the  brighter  light  of  its  successors,  the  State  street 
Market,  Warner's  and  the  Metropolitan.  But  not 
even  the  Auditorium  enlists  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
public  to-day,  as  did  that  bare,  plain,  small  room, 
which  was  the  admiration  of  that  generation  of 
citizens. 

Some  good  firms  clustered  around  the  old  Saloon. 
In  the  store  at  121  Lake  street  were  Allen  &  Boyce, 
druggists.  Leroy  M.  Boyce  was  a  public  spirited 
citizen,  and  an  unusually  broad  minded  man.  He 
was  an  ardent  promoter  of  the  Young  Men's  Associa- 
tion, and  a  leader  in  all  its  good  works.  The  following 
incident  reveals  his  character: 

J.  H.  Reed,  before  locating  in  Chicago,  came  here 
to  look  the  ground  over,  and  called  on  Mr.  Boyce,  who 
urged  him  to  come  and  go  into  business,  assuring 
him  that  there  was  plenty  of  room  for  another  first- 
class  wholesale  and  retail  drug  store;  that  he  would 
undoubtedly  do  well,  and  anything  he  could  do  for 
him  would  be  done  with  the  greatest  pleasure,  at  any 
and  all  times.  Such  advice  is  not  urged  upon  com- 


UBRARV 
OF  THE 
Of 


THE  BIRTH  OF  INDUSTRIES         273 

petitors  every  day,  and  exemplifies  the  nobility  of 
Mr.  Boyce's  nature. 

The  mutability  of  our  Public  Halls  was  equaled 
by  that  of  our  business  districts.  At  the  first,  busi- 
ness was  on  the  south  side  of  Water  street,  thence  it 
drifted  to  Lake  street  where  it  remained  until  about 
the  time  of  the  Fire,  though  some  business  was  done 
on  State,  Dearborn  and  Clark.  I  remember  there 
was  a  frame  block  on  the  north  side  of  Lake,  west 
of  Clark,  called  " Rotten  Row,"  yet  that  old  hulk 
was  always  in  good  demand  at  a  high  rental,  even  with 
the  grass  in  the  eaves — which  ran  parallel  with  the 
street — showing  a  luxuriant  growth  of  two  feet  in 
summer.  For  some  time  the  finest  dry  goods  store 
in  the  city  was  Ross  &  Foster's,  on  the  south  side  of 
Lake,  west  of  LaSalle. 

But  the  Fire,  like  a  mammoth  sponge,  wiped 
everything  from  the  blackboard.  One  of  the  most 
difficult  problems  which  then  confronted  the  city 
was  the  furnishing  of  Abstracts  of  Title  to  property, 
after  the  public  records  had  all  been  destroyed.  It 
was  fortunate,  indeed,  that  Edward  A.  Rucker,  a 
brother  of  Judge  Henry  Rucker,  had  adopted,  in  1838, 
the  occupation  of  furnishing  abstracts.  This  was 
the  nucleus  of  that  great  business  which  proved  to 
be  so  all-important  when  the  overwhelming  calamity 
came  upon  us;  for  we  found  that  by  combining  the 
records  of  the  several  firms  we  could  establish  titles, 
and  so  avert  a  calamity  that  otherwise  would  have 
been  beyond  comprehension.  In  1841,  James  H. 
Reese  joined  Mr.  Rucker.  Subsequently  S.  B.  Chase 


274  EARLY  CHICAGO 

entered  the  firm,  which  afterwards  became  Chase 
Brothers  &  Co.  In  1853,  Shortall  &  Hoard  also 
established  themselves  in  the  same  line,  while  Fer- 
nando Jones  followed  suit  in  1855,  forming,  later  on, 
a  partnership  with  A.  H.  Sellers,  under  the  name  of 
Jones  &  Sellers.  The  several  companies  were  ab- 
sorbed by  the  Chicago  Title  and  Trust  Company  in 
the  fall  of  1901. 

It  has  often  been  maintained  that  our  great  fire 
was  a  blessing  in  disguise  to  Chicago,  by  clearing  the 
ground  of  many  buildings  and  making  room  for  the 
more  uniform  grade  of  modern  structures  which  have 
superseded  them.  In  one  sense,  of  course,  this  is 
true.  The  city  gained  in  appearance,  but  it  was  at 
the  price  of  the  well-being  of  many  of  its  most  worthy 
citizens.  It  was  no  loss  to  those  who  had  held  their 
land  unimproved,  preferring  to  put  their  money,  as 
fast  as  it  accumulated,  into  more.  Such  men,  indeed, 
were  benefitted  by  the  fire;  but  not  the  men  who 
made  Chicago.  These  saw  their  stores  and  houses 
go  up  in  flames,  together  with  almost  every  company 
in  which  they  were  insured.  Many  of  the  old  settlers, 
too  aged  or  infirm  to  rebuild,  and  unable  to  meet  the 
onerous  taxes  and  assessments  which  were  necessary 
for  the  reconstruction  of  the  annihilated  city,  were 
obliged  to  part  with  their  holdings  for  any  offer  they 
might  receive.  Some,  adopting  the  other  course, 
built  immediately,  paying  extortionate  prices  for 
everything,  hiring  money  at  a  high  rate  of  interest, 
only  to  find  at  last  that  they  could  not  rent  their 


THE  BIRTH  OF  INDUSTRIES         275 

property  in  the  chaotic  condition  of  their  surroundings. 
Unable  to  meet  their  interest,  pay  taxes  and  assess- 
ments, they  lost  everything  and  died  in  penury,  or 
lived  on  the  charity  of  their  friends  or  relatives. 


CHAPTER   XX 
FIRE  FIGHTING 

The  Chicago  American  of  October  10,  1835,  con- 
tains the  following: 

"We  understand  that  G.  S.  Hubbard  Esq.  has 
ordered  on  his  own  responsibility  a  fire  engine  with 
the  necessary  apparatus,  to  be  sent  to  Chicago  im- 
mediately from  the  East.  Individual  responsibility 
being  the  only  means  offered  for  obtaining  this  im- 
portant instrument  of  protection,  we  trust  our  citizens 
will  avail  themselves  of  this  convenience  by  estab- 
lishing a  Fire  Company  without  delay." 

The  company  organized  immediately  and  Fire 
King,  Engine  No.  1  was  ready  before  long  for  service. 
The  force  was  soon  increased  by  the  addition  of 
another  engine,  No.  2,  the  Metamora. 

At  our  first  great  fire,  when  the  original  Tremont 
was  destroyed,  we  had  but  these  two  engines.  The 
hose  from  one  not  reaching  from  the  river  to  Lake 
street,  No.  1  pumped  into  No.  2  and  in  this  manner 
finally  arrested  the  flames.  The  engine  houses  were 
both  on  the  river  bank;  No.  1  at  the  foot  of  South 
Dearborn,  No.  2  directly  opposite  on  North  Water. 
Our  only  water  supply  was  the  lake,  the  river,  a  few 
wells,  and  now  and  then  a  cistern.  Wells  and  cisterns 
were  soon  exhausted  by  the  engines,  which  conse- 

277 


278  EARLY  CHICAGO 

quently  became  useless  when  they  could  not  draw 
from  the  lake  or  river.  At  first  the  buildings  were 
near  enough  to  the  water  supply  for  one  engine  to 
work  to  advantage,  but  as  the  town  grew,  we  were 
obliged  to  have  more  machines,  and  then  it  was  the 
custom  to  place  one  at  the  river,  or  lake  and  another 
at  the  limit  of  the  hose,  and  so  on  until  the  fire  could 
be  played  upon. 

The  good  natured  rivalry  between  companies 
displayed  itself  in  one  flooding  another  by  pumping 
more  water  into  its  rival  than  the  latter  could  dis- 
pose of,  and  in  racing  to  fires.  There  was  great  en- 
thusiasm over  these  combats  which  compensated  in 
a  measure  for  the  toil  and  danger  which  the  faith- 
ful men  uncomplainingly  endured,  and  the  expenses 
they  incurred  for  uniforms,  etc.  Their  only  recom- 
pense was  the  satisfaction  of  noble  service  rendered, 
together  with  exemption  from  jury  and  militia  duty 
after  a  service  of  ten  years.  This  militia  duty  and 
drill  was  a  farce,  but  all  had  to  attend  to  it,  until 
the  burlesque  parades  of  men  in  the  most  outlandish 
outfits  and  weapons  finally  put  an  end  to  what  most 
folks  looked  upon  as  an  irksome  civic  duty.  Of 
course  the  boys  often  required  help  to  drag  the  ma- 
chines to  the  fire  and  to  "man  the  brakes"  upon  ar- 
rival; refusal  to  aid  in  the  former  cost  the  recalcitrant 
$1 ;  in  the  latter  $5.  The  foreman  and  engineers  did 
not  always  wait  for  the  slow  process  of  the  law,  but 
"knocked  down"  on  the  spot.  When  they  or  the 
Fire  Wardens,  with  their  staffs  of  office,  gave  an 


FIRE  FIGHTING  279 

order  to  an  idle  spectator,  he  knew  it  meant  instant 
compliance  or  a  fine. 

Each  householder  was  required  to  provide  him- 
self with  as  many  fire  buckets  as  he  had  stoves;  and 
it  was  his  duty  to  see  that  they  were  present  at  every 
fire.  They  were  made  entirely  of  sole  leather,  in- 
cluding the  handles,  and  held  ten  quarts  each,  the 
same  as  a  wooden  pail;  but  were  quite  deep,  so 
that  they  would  not  waste  so  much  water  in  the 
process  of  passing  as  an  ordinary  bucket;  and  the 
shape  was  such  that  the  water  could  be  thrown  where 
required.  The  buckets  were  in  no  danger  of  breaking 
by  rough  usage. 

They  were  all  manufactured  by  our  old  time  har- 
ness maker,  Silas  B.  Cobb,  who  was  now  doing  an 
extensive  "harness,  saddlery  and  trunk"  business 
at  171  Lake  street.  By  the  time  S.  B.  had  them 
painted  black,  with  the  name  of  the  owner  in  yellow 
letters,  they  were  quite  a  conspicuous  ornament 
in  the  front  halls  of  our  dwellings,  where  the  city 
ordinance  required  they  should  be  kept.  It  needed 
watchfulness  as  well  as  yellow  letters  to  save  them 
from  the  public  spirited  Bucket  Co.'s  boys,  who  had 
a  strong  proclivity  to  appropriate  any  lying  around 
loose,  which  they  would  re-christen  as  soon  as  they 
could  get  them  into  the  Bucket  House. 

Those  "Ancients  and  Honorables"  would  make  a 
prominent  display  among  the  fine  bric-a-brac  of  our 
modern  parlors,  at  least  they  would  be  curios;  and 
I  am  not  certain  but  one  might  be  found  in  the  rooms 


280  EARLY  CHICAGO 

of  the  Calumet  Club,  bearing  the  name  of  Abram  Gale. 
I  at  least  know  that  when  that  worthy  club  gave 
their  delightful  annual  receptions  to  the  Old  Settlers, 
I  had  usually  the  pleasure  of  being  father's  escort 
and  that  upon  one  occasion  he  took  one  of  his  two 
buckets  with  him.  Alighting  from  the  carriage  with 
it,  Mr.  Cobb,  who  was  one  of  the  reception  committee, 
rushed  to  father,  and  took  it  from  him  with  the  re- 
mark, "  I  made  that,  Gale,  and  I  am  glad  to  see  it," 
"I  am  happy  to  present  it  to  you,  Mr.  Cobb,"  said 
father,  "we  are  not  obliged  to  be  provided  with  them 
as  formerly,  and,  having  no  further  use  for  it,  I  thought 
I  would  present  it  to  you  as  a  souvenir  of  the  past." 
Cobb  took  as  much  pride  and  satisfaction  in  dis- 
playing his  handiwork  to  his  friends  and  the  guests 
as  a  young  lady  would  in  showing  a  pretty  pattern 
of  embroidery. 

Having  no  bells  to  sound  the  alarm,  it  was  the 
duty  of  every  one  having  a  pair  of  lungs  properly 
constructed,  to  start  with  his  buckets  for  the  con- 
flagration with  a  yell  at  every  step  from  the  time  he 
left  his  house,  and  if  it  was  night,  he  dressed  as  he 
ran  with  his  wardrobe  on  his  arm.  The  good  house- 
wives, mindful  of  the  city  ordinance,  placed  a  lamp 
at  the  front  window  or  a  lantern  outside,  to  light  the 
fire  fighters  on  their  way.  We  boys  appeared  to  have 
a  special  grade  of  lungs  designed  for  other  purposes 
than  the  mere  function  of  respiration,  and  there  was 
an  inspiration  in  the  fact  that  we  were  all  encouraged 
to  shout,  Fire!  to  the  full  extent  of  our  marvellous 
capacity.  The  farther  we  ran  the  more  the  fun. 


FIRE  FIGHTING  281 

When  the  fire  was  reached,  if  there  were  enough  of 
us  for  the  purpose,  we  would  line  up  opposite  the 
row  of  men  and  pass  the  empty  buckets,  and  make 
ourselves  useful  by  picking  up  the  empties  thrown 
from  the  roofs  or  ladders  and  starting  them  on  the 
journey  for  more  water.  If  there  was  but  a  single 
line  from  the  fire  to  the  water  supply,  men  and  large 
boys  would  pass  full  buckets  with  one  hand,  at  the 
same  time  taking  the  empties  with  the  other. 

In  January,  1845,  we  had  our  first  fire  bell,  which 
was  located  in  the — Unitarian  church  belfry.  This 
bell  was  also  rung  at  7  A.  M.,  12  M.  and  at  6  and 
9  P.  M.  Mechanics  worked  ten  hours  in  those  days, 
and  glad  of  the  chance.  The  last  bell  at  night  served 
a  notice  upon  merchants  and  their  clerks  that  it  was 
time  to  put  up  shutters  and  lock  up.  I  still  remember 
Bill  Newhall's  uncle;  the  tall,  straight,  dignified, 
white-haired  old  gentleman,  the  "Father  Time"  of  '41, 
whose  step,  as  he  walked  to  and  from  Newhall's  shoe 
shop,  was  as  regular  as  the  reliable  bull's-eye  silver 
watch  he  carried  in  his  capacious  vest  pocket.  After 
the  last  peal  of  the  evening  bell,  the  watchmen 
would  call  out  the  hours  until  daybreak,  closing  each 
with  "all  is  well."  In  1856  the  municipal  burdens 
of  the  Unitarian  church  bell  were  transferred  to  a 
larger  one  placed  in  the  cupola  of  our  second  court 
house,  a  two  story  and  basement  stone  structure, 
placed  in  the  center  of  the  public  square. 

I  was  but  seven  years  old  at  the  time  of  the  first 
"  Big  Fire, "  yet  I  remember  reading  in  the  next  issue 
of  the  American,  the  first  public  and  substantial 


282  EARLY  CHICAGO 

acknowledgment    to    the    firemen,   which   was    as 
follows: 


A  CARD 
To  Alvin  Calhoun,  Chief  Engineer  of  the 

Fire  Department. 
Dear  Sir: — 

I  wish  to  thank  the  Fire  Department 
and  citizens  generally  for  their  noble  and 
successful  efforts  to  save  my  property  at 
the  great  fire  of  Saturday,  and  as  a  token 
of  my  appreciation,  I  send  you  a  check  for 
$50.  for  the  benefit  of  the  Fire  Department. 

A.  Gale. 


Our  firemen,  from  the  start,  were  business  men, 
and  their  employees,  or  those  engaged  in  other  call- 
ings, whose  time  was  precious.  At  first  they  could 
discharge  their  self-imposed  duties  with  but  little  loss 
of  time,  but  as  the  place  grew,  their  onerous  task 
greatly  increased,  much  to  their  personal  loss  and 
discomfort,  and  it  was  a  great  relief  to  the  large  band 
of  noble  men,  many  of  whom  had  served  fifteen  or 
twenty  years,  when  the  paid  fire  department  and 
steam  engines  were  introduced.  It  was  upon  the 
15th  day  of  February,  1858,  that  the  "Long  John," 
the  first  machine  of  this  kind,  reached  the  city. 

The  community  always  took  great  precautions  to 
protect  itself  from  the  devouring  element.  With 
cramped,  uncomfortable  quarters,  it  was  customary 
in  summer  time  to  have  the  cooking  stove  out  of  doors, 
or  in  an  outside  shed.  With  high  grass  on  all  sides, 
easily  ignited,  it  was  necessary  to  observe  the  utmost 
caution  for  self  protection.  Lest  any  should  not 


FIRE  FIGHTING  283 

be  aware  of  the  danger  of  letting  stove  pipes  come  in 
close  proximity  to  woodwork,  ordinances  were  enacted 
respecting  them,  which  it  was  the  duty  of  the  four 
unpaid  Fire  Wardens  of  the  town  to  see  were  fully 
complied  with. 

On  Nov.  3,  1834,  an  ordinance  was  passed  pro- 
hibiting the  carrying  of  live  coals  through  the  streets 
except  in  covered  vessels.  This  was  a  great  hardship 
to  the  good  housewives,  who  found  their  carefully 
covered  coals  had  gone  out  while  they  had  been 
absorbed  in  some  household  duty,  or  had  tarried 
a  little  too  long  gossiping  in  the  house  or  over  the 
fence  of  a  neighbor.  This  was  two  years  before  the 
introduction  of  Loco  Foco  matches,  and  to  resort  to 
the  tinder  box  to  start  a  fire  was  far  more  laborious 
than  to  throw  a  shawl  over  one's  head  and  get  a  good 
shovelful  of  live  coals  from  a  neighbor. 

I  distinctly  remember  making  pine  splinters  three 
or  four  inches  long,  which,  after  dipping  the  ends  in 
melted  sulphur,  were  used  in  the  troublesome  process 
of  fire  lighting.  The  old  tinder  boxes  sometimes 
contained  punk,  or  rags  dipped  in  sulphur,  but  more 
commonly  were  partly  filled  with  cotton  cloth.  When 
this  was  ignited,  a  close-fitting  tin  was  crowded  down 
over  the  fire,  extinguishing  the  blaze,  but  permitting 
it  to  burn  sufficiently  to  form  tinder.  Striking  steel 
and  flint  together,  the  sparks  would  ignite  the  tinder 
while  a  sulphur-dipped  sliver,  coupled  with  skill,  hard 
blowing,  suppressed  sulphurous  speech,  and  patience 
with  dry  kindling  would  do  the  rest. 

Sometimes  an  old  law  becomes  obsolete,  or  is  lost 


284  EARLY  CHICAGO 

sight  of  until  suddenly  an  innocent  person  suffers 
from  its  enforcement.  I,  therefore,  may  be  doing 
such  a  person  a  good  service  by  calling  attention  to 
an  old  ordinance  that  I  think  never  has  been  repealed. 
It  was  passed  August  5,  1835,  and  is  as  follows:  "It 
shall  not  be  lawful  for  any  person  to  stack  hay  within 
the  following  limits  of  the  Town  of  Chicago.  Viz.: 
commencing  on  Washington  street,  at  the  U.  S. 
Reservation  and  running  thence  west  to  the  inter- 
section of  Canal  street,  thence  north  to  the  intersec- 
tion of  Kinzie  street,  thence  east  to  the  intersection 
of  Wolcott,  thence  to  Illinois,  and  thence  to  Lake 
Michigan,  under  penalty  of  $25  for  each  and  every 
offense,  and  cost  of  removing  the  same. " 


CHAPTER   XXI 

THE  STREAM  OF  MY  CHILDHOOD  AND  THE 
CHICAGO  RIVER 

THE   RIVER. 

I  wish  that  I  could  conjure  you 

The  stream  as  it  was  then; 
Within  the  glass  of  memory 

I  see  it  all  again, 
But  speech  is  traitor  to  my  wish, — 

Refuses  to  portray 
Its  beauty  as  I  saw  it  first 

One  charming  morn  in  May. 

I  love,  in  contemplation  sweet, 

To  bring  it  back  once  more, 
To   watch   its   sun-tipped   waters   kiss 

The  blue  flags  near  the  shore. 
Again  upon  its  surface  smooth 

I  launch  my  mimic  boat, 
And  see  as  'twere  but  yesterday 

It  slowly  from  me  float. 

Nature  has  implanted  and  civilization  has  failed 
to  destroy  in  the  breast  of  a  healthy  boy  a  warm 
sympathy  and  fellow  feeling  between  himself  and 
a  body  of  water.  Its  form  or  condition  makes  no 
difference.  If  it  is  a  body  of  water  it  appeals  to  him, 
and  he  responds  to  the  appeal. 

What  a  variety  of  sports  does  it  afford  him.  Hunt- 
ing, fishing,  wading,  swimming,  rowing,  sailing,  skip- 

285 


286  EARLY  CHICAGO 

ping  stones,  throwing  sticks  for  dogs  to  retrieve,  skat- 
ing and  sleigh  riding.  Each  of  these  amusements  did 
I  enjoy  when  a  boy,  on  the  Chicago  river.  I  loved 
it  and  communed  with  it  as  with  a  companion;  and 
after  this  long  lapse  of  years,  the  memory  of  it  stirs 
me  like  the  remembered  greetings  of  a  cherished 
and  long  lost  friend.  Speaking  to  me  from  the  dis- 
tant past  in  tones  no  others  hear,  in  language  no 
others  may  interpret,  delightful  scenes  come  trooping 
to  me  again.  How  distinctly  I  see  the  modest  river 
with  its  verdant  banks,  which  seem  to  memory  so 
high  above  its  limpid  surface.  How  it  appears  to 
melt  in  the  emerald  carpet,  beautifully  embroidered 
for  its  reception.  Down  through  the  center  of  this 
rich  setting  runs  the  stream  of  silver.  Dividing  at 
Wolf  Point,  it  curls  away  to  the  south  a  glittering 
belt  of  beauty,  while  the  northern  necklace  is  lost  in 
umbrageous  timber. 

But  commerce  came;  and  like  some  lonely  gull, 
folding  its  weary  wings,  the  solitary  ship  furls  its 
weather  beaten  sails,  chafes  at  its  troubled  moor- 
ings, riding  at  anchor  upon  the  rolling  waves,  await- 
ing a  quiet  harbor. 

The  ponderous  dredge,  that  mechanical  elephant, 
which  feels  with  its  seeming  intelligent  trunk  far 
down  below  the  surface  of  the  water,  removes  the  sand 
bar  and  the  coveted  harbor  is  obtained.  That  little 
stream,  whose  crystal  waters  had  never  been  parted 
by  anything  heavier  than  a  canoe,  now  buoyed  the 
massive  barks  of  traffic,  and  became  polluted  with  the 
sewage  of  a  growing  city.  And  thus  the  great  transi- 


THE  CHICAGO  RIVER  287 

tion  came,  and  we  were  wont  to  curse  the  sinless 
streamlet  for  it.  To  think  that  poor,  innocent, 
abused,  baby  stream  should  for  so  many  years  have 
had  anathemas  heaped  upon  it  by  every  one,  without 
a  friend  to  stand  up  for  it,  is  too  bad,  too  bad. 

Yet  it  was  very  natural  it  should  be  so.  It  was  a 
stranger  to  most  of  us.  Its  foul  stenches  and  black 
flood  too  putrid  almost  to  flow,  awakened  no 
sentiment  in  the  hearts  of  aliens  who  had  never  seen 
it  in  early  days,  when  the  violets  of  its  grassy  banks, 
reaching  to  its  brink,  played  in  gentle  dalliance  with 
its  slowly  moving  tide.  Few  among  us  have  seen  it 
when  pond  lilies  floated  in  all  their  exquisite  beauty 
upon  its  placid  surface,  or  when  it  threw  scouting 
parties  inland  and  placed  its  sturdy  bull-rushes  on  its 
disputed  borders,  in  the  conflict  between  the  wet 
ground  and  the  dry.  They  who  abuse  it  never  saw  the 
yellow  headed  dandelions  tacking  the  spring  grasses 
to  the  sod  through  which  it  slipped,  nor  the  prairie 
pointers  in  summer  watching  their  modest  drooping 
forms  reflected  from  its  faultless  mirror,  nor  golden- 
rods,  those  latest  daughters  of  Flora's  happy  house- 
hold, waving  their  graceful  hands  tenderly  in  fare- 
wells, as  the  chilly  air  of  autumn  threatened  to  choke 
the  shallow  stream  with  its  frigid  breath.  Few  can 
recall,  as  I  do,  its  tortuous  windings,  which  precluded 
sailing  vessels  from  entering  its  narrow  channel  and 
making  their  way  up  stream,  to  where  they  would 
frighten  the  wild  ducks,  raising  their  young  along 
its  sedgy  borders,  or  change  the  course  of  the  num- 
erous birch  bark  canoes,  that  with  their  light  loads 


288  EARLY  CHICAGO 

and  skillful  occupants  floated  with  equal  grace  in  the 
little  land  locked  harbor.  We  are  with  scarcely  an  ex- 
ception, strangers  to  all  this.  We  are  business  men, 
in  a  hurry,  having  no  time  for  nonsensical  sentiment. 
You  may  sing  its  praises  if  you  wish,  but  you  can 
evoke  no  poetry  from  us.  For  years  we  have  known 
it  only  as  a  nasty  nuisance,  with  the  bridge  invariably 
turned  when  we  have  been  in  a  hurry  to  catch  a  train 
or  reach  our  places  of  business. 

But  let  us  see  what  our  treatment  of  the  stream 
has  been.  Have  we  always  treated  it  justly?  Origin- 
ally it  flowed  from  the  west  directly  into  the  lake, 
but  the  currents  of  the  latter,  moving  from  the  north 
along  the  western  shore,  carried  much  loose  sand  and 
deposited  it  at  the  uncomplaining  mouth  of  the  slowly, 
moving  river,  compelling  its  gentle  tide  to  seek  an 
exit  farther  and  farther  south,  until  ultimately  it 
reached  the  lake  near  Madison  street.  For  our  con- 
venience, in  1833,  we  caused  a  shallow  channel  to  be  cut 
through  this  north  bank,  allowing  the  stream  to  flow 
directly  east  into  the  lake,  though  it  was  not  then 
dredged  sufficiently  deep  to  admit  vessels.  In  fact, 
up  to  1835,  but  one  captain  had  ever  been  able  to 
bring  his  craft  into  the  much  coveted  port.  On 
July  12,  1834,  the  brig  "Illinois,"  then  under  the 
command  of  Captain  Pickering,  gained  the  enviable 
distinction  of  being  the  first  vessel,  and,  as  far  as  I 
have  been  able  to  ascertain,  the  only  one  that 
performed  that  feat  up  to  this  period  of  our  narrative. 
I  am  aware  that  it  is  reported  that  our  old  friend, 
Captain  L.  C.  Hugunin,  reached  Chicago  with  his  two 


THE  CHICAGO  RIVER  289 

brothers,  Judge  Peter  D.  and  Captain  Hiram Hugunin, 
on  the  Westward  Ho,  in  August  1833,  "and  had 
to  go  ashore,  and  hire  8  yoke  of  oxen  to  draw  the 
yacht  over  the  bar,  at  the  present  mouth  of  the  river." 
To  a  person  familiar  with  that  bar  in  the  month  of 
August,  and  the  depth  of  water  west  of  it,  where  the 
8  yoke  of  oxen  would  have  had  to  be  in  order  to  per- 
form the  task,  this  would  seem  an  impossibility. 

For  most  of  the  information  regarding  the  work 
on  our  harbor,  which  enabled  us  to  make  a  short  cut 
into  the  lake,  I  am  indebted  to  my  old  schoolmates, 
A.  V.  Jackson  and  his  brother.  In  May,  1833,  their 
father,  Samuel  T.  Jackson,  was  sent  here  from  Buffalo 
by  the  Government  as  foreman  of  construction,  under 
Major  George  Bender,  in  the  work  of  improving  the 
harbor,  Congress  having  lately  appropriated  $25,000, 
the  first  money  ever  voted  for  that  purpose.  During 
the  previous  year  a  small,  circular  stone  lighthouse, 
with  six  rotary  oil  lamps,  had  been  built  on  the  south 
bank  of  the  river  immediately  west  of  the  fort. 
Work  was  commenced  on  the  south  pier  in  the  spring 
of  1833,  and  on  the  north  pier  in  the  following  year. 
The  hard  sawed  lumber  for  these  piers  was  furnished 
by  Bickerdike  and  Kettlestrings,  as  they  owned  the 
only  saw  mill  within  forty  miles.  It  was  located  on 
the  east  side  of  the  Aux  Plaines  river,  a  little  north 
of  Lake  street.  The  hewn  timber  was  gotten  out 
for  several  winters  on  the  North  Branch,  about  12 
miles  above,  and  brought  down  on  sleds  when  the 
river  was  frozen. 

By  November,  1833,  four  or  five  hundred  feet  of 


290  EARLY  CHICAGO 

the  south  pier  was  completed,  even  to  the  filling  in 
with  boulders.  After  1834  the  north  pier  was  always 
kept  from  two  to  three  hundred  feet  in  advance  of  the 
south.  It  required  many  years  of  successive  ap- 
propriations to  complete  the  piers  as  far  as  they  have 
been  carried.  Congress  was  so  dilatory  with  appro- 
priations that  the  public  became  impatient,  and  in 
1842  the  merchants  and  vessel  owners  contributed 
$970  for  the  deepening  of  the  channel.  The  work 
of  construction  was  very  interesting  to  our  little 
community,  which  turned  out  every  Sunday  afternoon 
in  summer  to  inspect  the  work,  to  congratulate  itself 
on  the  progress  made  and  to  enjoy  the  cool  lake 
breezes. 

As  the  north  pier  was  constructed,  the  sand,  which 
had  heretofore  been  carried  southward  by  the  flow 
of  the  lake,  was  arrested  by  the  pier,  and  made  val- 
uable accretions  to  the  real  estate  in  true  Dutch 
fashion.  Many  years  afterward  the  north  side  prop- 
erty owners  employed  that  sound,  honest,  convincing 
lawyer  from  Springfield,  Abraham  Lincoln,  to  defend 
in  the  courts  their  riparian  rights  to  the  land  thus 
formed. 

But  the  south  siders,  hitherto  protected  by  the 
tongue  of  land  between  the  river  and  the  lake  which 
extended  in  front  of  their  property,  soon  saw  the 
waves  carry  this  natural  breakwater  into  the  former 
bed  of  the  stream,  and  then  eat  their  way  into  the 
soft  ground  east  of  Michigan  avenue,  thus  destroying 
much  valuable  land.  As  futile  as  opposing  fate  itself 
seemed  the  efforts  of  our  citizens  to  check  the  re- 


THE  CHICAGO  RIVER  291 

morseless  encroachments  of  the  lake.  They  were 
constantly  battling  with  the  never  weary  foe.  Piles 
were  driven  in  near  the  shore  and  triangular  break- 
waters were  thrown  out  at  short  intervals,  but  all  in 
vain.  The  subtle  sappers  of  the  deep  undermined 
them,  while  the  Titans  of  the  flood  piled  their  thun- 
dering waves  against  them,  tossing  rocks  and  timber 
alike  in  scornful  derision  at  the  feet  of  those  who 
had  presumed  in  these  later  days  to  repeat  the  boast- 
ful folly  of  Canute.  It  was  not  until  the  Illinois 
Central  Railroad  built,  in  1852,  their  long,  continuous 
breakwater  parallel  with  the  shore,  that  the  Scam- 
mons,  the  Wrights,  the  Gurnees,  the  Walkers,  the 
Laflins  and  others  who  lived  on  the  south  side  could 
sleep  soundly  o'nights,  when  the  tempest  tossed 
waves  beat  in  mad  fury  against  the  solid  pier. 

The  washing  away  of  this  bank  of  the  river  was 
deplored  by  us  boys  less  on  account  of  the  valuable 
acres  we  s.aw  obliterated,  than  because  it  deprived  us 
of  our  old  time  pleasure  of  swimming  across  the 
stream  to  rest  and  sport  on  the  opposite  bank. 

But  to  me  the  destruction  of  the  bank  brought  a 
special  grief.  There  was  a  small,  dilapidated  old 
structure,  built  well  inland  many  years  ago,  but 
now  being  no  longer  protected  by  the  river's  bank, 
it  tottered  on  the  yawning  brink,  while  every  storm 
threatened  to  engulf  it.  For  that  old  shanty,  worth- 
less as  it  was,  I  had  almost  a  veneration.  And  I 
probably  felt  a  deeper  regret,  when  I  at  length  saw 
it  yield  to  the  inevitable,  than  I  should  have  exper- 
ienced had  I  seen  an  elegant  mansion  swallowed  up 


292  EARLY  CHICAGO 

by  the  relentless  water  fiends.  That  little  shell  was, 
with  the  exception  of  the  Kinzie  residence — now 
fast  going  to  decay — the  oldest  house  in  the  place, 
and,  as  such,  was  pointed  out  to  strangers  as  would 
have  been  some  marvelous  work  of  nature  or  an 
eminent  personage.  Built  by  the  early  Post  sut- 
ler, and  army  contractor,  John  Dean,  it  had  always 
been  a  valuable  adjunct  to  the  little  burg,  housing 
many  a  newcomer,  when  no  other  shelter  could  be 
obtained,  and  serving  a  variety  of  useful  purposes 
not  contemplated  by  its  original  owner.  Here,  on 
January  28,  1822,  was  Alexander  Beaubien  born, — 
a  hale  and  hearty  man  still  with  us.  It  was  also 
one  of  the  first  buildings  used  for  school  purposes. 
Stephen  Forbes  and  his  wife  Elvira,  who  occupied  it 
in  1830,  commenced  in  June  of  that  year  to  so  utilize 
it.  Hon.  Charles  C.  P.  Holden,  in  an  address  deliv- 
ered before  the  Pioneer  Club,  stated  that  "the 
school  numbered  about  twenty-five  pupils,  of  ages 
from  four  to  twenty,  and  embraced  the  children  of 
those  belonging  to  the  Fort  and  of  Mr.  J.  B.  Beaubien 
— owner  of  the  building — and  a  few  others." 

There  the  poor,  dilapidated  relic  of  the  Post  stood 
trembling  on  the  yielding  sand.  Shorn  of  its  former 
importance,  having  outlived  its  usefulness,  it  mutely 
appealed  to  the  passers  by,  like  some  stranded, 
human  hulk,  whose  younger  days  may  have  been 
prosperous  and  happy,  but  who,  in  the  fierce  battle 
of  life,  has  lost  all  and  is  aground,  awaiting  the  sands 
of  oblivion  to  bury  it  forever. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

CROSSING  THE  STREAM 

One  of  the  first  problems  that  had  to  be  solved  by 
the  early  settlers  was  to  devise  means  to  get  across 
the  river,  and  the  community  is  confronted  by  much 
the  same  problem  to-day.  At  the  first,  people 
crossed  in  their  canoes,  which  method  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  landing  them  where  they  wished  to  go, 
but  it  was  rather  inconvenient  for  those  who  had  no 
canoes. 

There  soon  came  into  operation  several  ferry  lines. 
I  shall  not  dignify  the  first  one  by  that  name,  as  it 
was  only  a  heavy,  cumbersome  float,  which  was 
seldom  served  and  was  but  little  used.  This  was 
followed  in  a  year  by  the  "Grape  Vine  Ferry," 
spoken  of  by  Hurlbut,  in  his  Chicago  antiquities.  It 
is  thus  referred  to  by  a  gentleman  who  came  here  on 
business  in  1830  and  who  put  up  at  the  log  tavern 
on  Wolf  Point:  " On  the  morning  after  our  arrival/' 
he  says,  "we  stepped  into  a  canoe  which  was  very 
convenient  to  the  front  door,  and  crossed  the  Chicago 
river  to  the  east  side  by  means  of  a  grape  vine 
stretched  across  it." 

Of  the  early  ferry  it  may  be  said  that  it  was  in- 
variably on  the  wrong  side  of  the  stream;  and  just 
as  it  was  making  ready  to  come  over  for  you,  proba- 

383 


294  EARLY  CHICAGO 

bly  a  little  lumber  craft  would  come  in  sight,  towed 
by  two  men  in  a  yawl,  and  down  to  the  bottom 
would  go  the  rope  that  was  stretched  across  the 
river  to  be  used  for  propulsion.  The  yawl  would 
go  through  with  its  tow,  the  skipper  responding  to 
the  ferryman's  cheery  greeting  as  he  passed.  The 
craft  safely  through,  Vain  Hope  would  spit  on  his 
calloused  hands,  seize  the  protruding  spokes  of  his 
horizontal  windlass  on  shore,  and  soon  the  slimy 
rope,  dripping  with  the  ooze  dragged  up  from  the 
river  bottom,  was  in  position.  Then,  grasping  it  with 
his  wooden  pull  near  the  bow,  Vain  Hope  walked 
slowly  to  the  stern,  repeating  this  movement  until 
the  opposite  shore  was  reached;  or,  standing  in  one 
place,  would  propel  from  there.  Were  you  in  a 
hurry  or  in  a  helping  mood,  you  would  lend  a  hand. 
And  if  the  passing  of  some  little  merchantman  de- 
tained you,  there  was  ample  compensation  for  the 
loss  of  time  in  the  novelty  of  seeing  the  stranger,  and 
wondering  where  it  hailed  from  and  what  its  cargo. 
A  ferry  was  less  expensive  than  a  bridge,  and  was 
sometimes  employed  even  when  bridges  were  in 
general  use.  Our  first  practical  ferry  was  across  the 
South  Branch  between  Randolph  and  Lake.  It  was 
constructed  in  1829,  by  Archibald  Caldwell  and 
Samuel  Miller,  who  ran  it  for  two  years,  when  Mark 
Beaubien  became  their  successor.  This  ferry  was 
free  to  the  citizens,  but  when  the  jolly  fiddler  met  a 
stranger,  he  scrupulously  followed  the  Scriptural 
injunction,  and  "took  him  in,"  for  his  license, 
which  cost  $5,  allowed  him  to  discriminate  against 


CROSSING  THE  STREAM  295 

aliens  to  the  extent  of  six  and  one-fourth  cents.  His 
was  the  first  ferry  license  issued  in  the  new  County 
of  Cook. 

This  ferry  was  superseded  in  1832  by  a  floating 
bridge  at  the  same  place,  which  was  also  tended  by 
Mark.  It  was  a  favorite  place  for  the  Indians  to 
dive  from,  and  I  used  to  frequently  see  them  sporting 
in  the  water,  as  innocently  naked  as  babies  in  a  bath. 
Whether  it  was  the  prospective  pleasure  to  be  thus 
derived  that  induced  them  to  contribute  the  $200 
that  they  are  reported  to  have  paid  towards  the 
$486.20  the  bridge  is  supposed  to  have  cost,  I  do  not 
know;  but  I  think  they  received  more  pleasure  from 
it  than  any  one  else,  unless  it  was  Mark  Beaubien. 
This  pontoon  bridge  was  moved  to  Van  Buren  street, 
to  accommodate  the  mill  people  and  a  few  others, 
in  1847,  when  Randolph  and  Madison  streets  were 
both  treated  to  something  better  than  the  primitive 
affair  of  Lake  street,  which  was  heartlessly  taken 
from  the  people  of  the  Point,  who  had  affectionately 
clustered  around  it  and  were  obliged  to  go  out  of 
then*  way  to  walk  over  an  aristocratic  bridge  that 
cost  $5,000. 

The  log  bridge,  built  by  Samuel  Miller  in  1832 
across  the  North  Branch,  had  no  provision  for  allow- 
ing the  passage  of  vessels,  as  such  an  event  was  never 
contemplated  in  Ms  day  and  generation.  The  first 
bridge  after  this  North  Branch  venture  was  the 
drawbridge  at  Dearborn  street,  built  in  1834.  But 
this  was  never  reliable  and  was  demolished  in  1839 
Like  a  sleepy  boy,  it  was  very  difficult  to  start  if  it 


296  EARLY  CHICAGO 

was  not  disposed  to  rise;  but  when  up,  like  Banquo's 
Ghost,  it  would  not  "  Down. "  The  public  continued 
the  use  of  canoes  in  going  between  the  south  and 
north  sides,  or  later  went  to  the  Clark  street  floating- 
bridge,  which  was  built  soon  after  the  demolition  of 
the  Dearborn  street  draw.  The  following  in  the 
American  of  April  18, 1840,  establishes  the  exact  date : 

"  Clarke  Street  Bridge.  The  erection  of  this  bridge 
has  been  commenced  to-day  by  the  driving  of  piles. 
We  believe  all  opposition  of  any  consequence  to  this 
location  has  subsided,  and  the  citizens  now  are  in 
a  fair  way  to  have  a  good  and  convenient  bridge 
across  the  main  river. " 

Still  we  were  not  happy,  judging  by  the  following 
in  the  issue  of  Dec.  15,  1840: 

"  The  streets  at  the  north  end  of  Clarke  street  bridge 
are  in  a  terrible  state.  It  is  almost  impossible  for  a 
pedestrian  to  get  on  or  off  this  bridge  without  being 
stuck  in  the  mud.  If  this  open  winter  is  to  continue 
we  would  suggest  to  the  Common  Council  the  pro- 
priety of  mending  their  ways." 

That  our  bridges  even  at  that  early  day  were  a 
nuisance  which  had  to  be  endured  because  not  easily 
cured  is  apparent,  for  on  February  13,  1836,  this 
notice  was  issued: 

"The  Trustees  of  the  Town  of  Chicago  will  not 
hold  themselves  accountable  for  any  damage  which 
may  arise  to  any  person  by  reason  of  crossing  the 
bridges  over  the  Chicago  river  or  over  the  North  or 
South  Branches  thereof,  the  said  bridges  being  con- 
sidered dangerous,  and  the  said  Trustees  not  having 
funds  out  of  which  to  repair  the  said  bridges. " 


CROSSING  THE  STREAM  297 

Five  years  later,  on  Nov.  22, 1841,  the  city  council 
passed  an  order  directing  the  street  commissioner 
to  inquire  whether  a  person  could  not  be  found  to 
attend  to  the  South  Branch  bridge  for  less  than  fifty 
cents  a  day;  from  which  we  may  infer  the  chronic 
leanness  of  the  civic  purse.  It  is  interesting  to  study 
the  difficulties  that  always  attended  the  problem  of 
crossing  the  river,  a  problem  complicated  by  the 
jealousy  which  existed  between  the  different  divisions 
of  the  place,  regarding  the  securing  of  the  country 
trade.  All  the  farm  products  were  received  by  teams 
from  the  west  or  south.  The  west  side  naturally 
wished  to  monopolize  the  western  trade,  and  op- 
posed every  measure  that  would  enable  the  farmers 
to  get  their  teams  across  the  river.  The  producers 
of  the  Wabash  country  and  vicinity  arrived  on  the 
south  side,  and  so  the  merchants  of  that  division 
did  everything  in  their  power  to  prevent  the  Hoosiers 
from  crossing  to  the  north  side,  where  most  of  the 
warehouses  were  located.  An  indication  of  that 
jealous  feeling  is  shown  by  the  action  of  the  council, 
July  21,  1842,  in  "accepting  the  report  of  their  com- 
mittee adversely  to  opening  a  street  on  the  north 
side  of  the  river  opposite  State  street."  In  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  council  on  May  25,  1840,  it  was  "  or- 
dered that  C.  H.  Birkenbile,  who,  on  April  13,  had 
received  $50,  be  allowed  the  balance  of  his  contract 
for  building  a  foot  passenger  scow,  which  was  ordered 
"  to  be  run  at  the  foot  of  any  street  across  the  river 
where  private  subscription  will  pay  for  the  same." 
Amended  so  as  to  read,  "foot  of  State  street  so  long 


298  EARLY  CHICAGO 

as  the  expenses  of  the  boat  can  be  paid  by  sub- 
scription, and  no  longer."  Adopted.  Yet  North 
State  had  not  been  opened,  and  even  two  years  later 
the  council  refused  to  open  it. 

An  editorial  in  the  American  says  of  this  sumptuous 
scow: 

"THE  NEW  FERRY  BOAT 

Is  a  decided  improvement  on  the  old  Swiftsure  line, 
and  will  probably  take  the  bulk  of  the  foot  travel, 
as  horses  are  not  allowed  on  board.  The  new  boat 
is  well  built,  painted,  and  has  seats  for  the  ladies. 
It  is  about  30  feet  long  by  about  12  feet  wide,  and 
can  cross  the  river  about  three  tunes  while  the  old 
one  crosses  it  once." 

Another  editorial  "opposes  making  the  few  pay  for 
the  benefit  of  the  many.  Allowing  the  ferry  at  the 
foot  of  State  street  were  solely  beneficial  to  the  1st 
and  6th  wards,  we  should  like  to  know  whether  the 
amount  of  taxes  paid  by  these  wards  does  not  entitle 
them  to  some  benefit  from  the  public  funds.  Was 
the  bridge  at  the  foot  of  Randolph  street  built  with 
the  funds  of  the  3rd,  4th,  and  2nd  wards?  Is  the 
expense  of  the  bridge  across  the  river  at  Clark  street 
to  be  defrayed  by  the  1st,  2nd,  and  5th  wards?" 

To  make  these  references  better  understood  I 
will  state  that  the  wards  were  thus  limited: 

First.      South  Side,  east  of  Clark  street. 
Second.  South  Side,  west  of  Clark  to  the  river. 
Third.     South  of  West  Randolph,  west  of  the  river. 
Fourth.  West  of  the  river,  north  of  West  Randolph. 
Fifth.     North  of  the  river,  west  of  North  Clark. 
Sixth.    North  of  the  river,  east  of  North  Clark. 


CROSSING  THE  STREAM  299 

But  little  work  was  done  at  that  time  to  deepen  or 
widen  the  channel.  The  docks  mostly  came  later. 
Occasionally  the  council  would  grant  a  petition  "to 
build  a  temporary  wharf  to  land  lumber,  etc." 
Vessels  were  small  and  towed  by  men  in  yawls  up 
and  down  stream,  when  the  wind  was  unfavorable. 
After  the  docks  were  built,  the  sailors  would  warp 
their  vessels  to  the  desired  wharf,  while  we  watched, 
waited  and  worried  until  the  bridge  could  close. 
As  the  town  grew,  there  were  more  boats  to  wait  for, 
more  bridges  to  wait  on,  and  more  people  to  spend 
the  slowly  dragging  hours,  chaffing  in  the  hot  sun, 
scolding  in  the  storm,  or  shivering  in  the  cold.  As 
vessels  increased  in  size,  we  were  obliged  to  wait 
longer;  and  instead  of  turning  anywhere  in  the 
stream,  every  one  of  them  felt  compelled  to  go  through 
all  the  bridges  of  the  main  river  to  the  Point,  where 
they  would  wind,  the  bridges  swinging  open  again 
upon  their  return. 

We  used  to  think  it  took  a  man  a  great  while  to 
swing  one  of  those  cumbersome  pontoons,  especially 
against  a  heavy  wind.  The  rope  frequently  was 
caught  by  the  anchor,  keel  or  rudder  of  the  crawling 
craft  and  was  broken,  which  made  it  necessary  to  lie 
off  a  day  or  two  for  repairs,  or  until  a  new  cable 
could  be  purchased.  In  the  course  of  time  the  river 
was  deepened  and  widened,  and  bridges  swinging 
from  center  piers  were  introduced. 

And  we  remember  how  the  miserable  boats  would 
sneak  upon  us,  like  an  Indian  in  ambush.  Strolling 
along  leisurely,  not  suspecting  any  trouble  ahead, 


300  EARLY  CHICAGO 

just  as  we  reached  the  river  the  tantalizing  bridge 
would  turn,  and  we  reluctantly  had  to  "bide  a  wee. " 
My  friend,  Wm.  Noyes,  who  kept  millers'  supplies  in 
Lind's  block,  on  the  river  bank,  conceived  the  idea 
of  having  a  bell  at  each  bridge  to  notify  the  public 
when  it  was  about  to  swing.  Noyes  hammered 
away  on  the  innovation  until  it  was  adopted,  and 
then  when  that  bell  rang,  what  a  race  for  a  couple  of 
blocks  was  made  by  men  with  bundles,  women  with 
babies,  children  with  yells,  and  noisy  vehicles  of 
every  description,  only  to  be  stopped  by  the  mocking 
red  signal,  if  a  second  too  late.  Even  our  Medicos, 
who  had  the  privilege  of  crowding  ahead  of  all  the 
others,  could  not  ignore  that. 

The  monarchs  of  the  world  appeared  in  1856,  the 
incarnation  of  indomitable  impudence,  a  thing  half 
angel  and  half  imp,  in  the  shape  of  a  snorting,  screech- 
ing, screaming,  shrieking,  splashing,  spurging,  smok- 
ing, saucy  steam  tug.  ,Then  there  was  music  day 
and  night  from  that  one  tug,  which  speedily  grew  to 
more  of  its  kind  than  were  required.  In  course  of 
time,  to  get  a  tow  they  would  run  half-way  up  to 
Milwaukee,  and  come  strutting  into  port  with  "my 
lady, "  as  proudly  as  a  well  groomed  boy,  leading  the 
prettiest  girl  in  the  room  to  his  first  dance.  In  the 
beginning  the  saucy  little  things  compelled  us  to 
open  every  bridge  they  came  to,  but  we  soon  put 
a  stop  to  that,  and  made  them  take  off  then*  hats  to 
us  when  they  met  us  on  the  bridge,  and  crawl  under. 
But  there  was  too  much  of  the  William  Tell  spirit  in 
them  for  such  cringing,  so  they  put  on  caps  and  kept 


CROSSING  THE  STREAM  301 

them  on.  We  recall  that  as  the  tonnage  of  the  vessels 
increased,  so  did  their  liability  to  run  aground  at 
every  draw.  When  that  happened,  the  bridge  tender 
shoveled  a  car-load  of  abomination  in  the  channel 
for  the  next  craft  to  ground  on.  The  captain 
seeing  this,  made  use  of  all  the  Scriptural  quo- 
tations that  occurred  to  his  pious  mind,  much  to 
the  edification  of  the  waiting  crowd.  Some  of 
the  men  echoed  the  phraseology  of  the  devout 
captain.  Others  had  a  good  vocabulary  of  their  own, 
which  they  liked  to  make  a  little  display  of  when  they 
had  an  appreciative  audience.  But  those  who  swore 
with  the  greatest  energy  and  unction  did  not  pile  up 
such  pyramids  of  curses  as  did  many  a  pious  looking, 
silent  chap,  who  got  his  work  in  on  the  quiet.  Men 
with  a  touch  of  madness  in  them  took  out  blocks  of 
paper  and  pencils  and  figured  out  how  much  it  cost 
in  dollars  and  cents  to  keep  these  crowds  waiting, 
through  one  season  of  navigation;  or  calculated  how 
many  lives  were  taken.  Not  that  the  bridges  ever 
killed  a  person,  but  the  hours  and  moments  spent  by 
each,  daily,  for  eight  or  nine  months  in  a  year  for 
thirty-three  years,  multiplied  again  by  the  number 
of  persons  at  each  bridge,  with  the  product  multi- 
plied by  the  number  of  bridges,  conclusively  proved 
that  a  large  army  lost  their  lives  in  efforts  to  cross 
the  Chicago  river. 

These  waiting  crowds  are  the  tug  fiends  delight, 
The  larger  the  vessel,  the  faster  it  is  stuck,  the  bigger 
the  crowd,  the  more  the  fun.  See  those  begrimed 
stokers  swing  open  the  greedy  furnace  doors;  how 


302  EARLY  CHICAGO 

they  chuckle  to  think  what  a  picnic  they  will  have 
with  that  unsuspecting  assemblage,  with  their  boiled 
shirts,  white  hats,  light  clothes  and  clean  collars. 
See  how  their  teeth  show  and  their  roughish  eyes 
twinkle  as  they  turn  towards  the  constantly  increas- 
ing numbers.  The  spunky,  saucy  little  tugs  chew 
that  coal  as  an  old  tobacco  fiend  his  weed,  and  begin 
like  him  to  spit.  They  stir  the  sewage  where  it  has 
lain  dormant  two  feet  deep  at  the  bottom  of  the  river, 
till  it  reaches  the  surface,  to  fill  every  nostril  with 
its  disagreeable  effluvium.  The  fumes  of  sulphur 
from  the  bituminous  coal  choke  the  assembled  multi- 
tude. The  people  shout  to  the  bridge  tender,  and 
he  jaws  back — if  he  thinks  his  political  pull  strong 
enough  to  risk  it.  After  half  a  dozen  tugs  whistle 
until  the  people  are  deaf,  wild  and  crazy,  smoke  them 
until  they  are  blind,  ply  them  with  steam,  soot  and 
sulphur  until  they  cannot  breathe,  the  little  lawless, 
tyrants  give  a  parting  screech,  a  farewell  belch  of 
gas,  soot,  cinders  and  steam,  and  to  our  joy  we  see  the 
jaunty  little  demons  strutting  off  on  the  Stygian 
stream,  like  victorious  bantam  roosters,  crowing  for 
the  next  bridge,  where  there  will  be  a  repetition  of 
the  same  performance  before  another  audience,  with 
every  front  seat  already  taken.  Now  that  we  have 
tunnels,  and  numerous  modern  bridges,  opened  and 
closed  almost  instantaneously,  by  the  pushing  of  a 
button,  with  a  limit  set  to  the  tune  they  are  allowed 
to  remain  open,  we  are  certainly  greatly  favored, 
compared  with  our  former  state.  Then  the  "  Bridge 
Boss"  would  wait  for  every  boat  between  Canalport, 


CROSSING  THE  STREAM  303 

alias  Bridgeport,  and  Waukegan  to  pass,  rather  than 
wind  the  old  hulk  with  an  iron  key,  which  required 
about  387  rounds  on  his  treadmill  circuit  every  time 
that  he  opened  or  closed  his  causeway. 

The  four  vessels  which  visited  Fort  Dearborn  in 
1833,  with  their  700  tons  of  freight,  entered  no  harbor, 
but  rode  at  anchor  on  the  lake.  In  sixty-three  years 
that  insignificant  commerce  has  been  marvelously 
increased  until,  in  1899,  it  reached  no  less  than  19, 112 
vessels,  with  a  tonnage  of  15,000,000.  Ought  we  not 
to  be  willing  to  pay  the  price  of  this  immense  develop- 
ment of  sea  borne  and  lake  borne  trade?  If  the  pure 
waters  of  our  little  stream  have  been  employed  as  a 
diluent  of  metropolitan  sewage,  until  they  have 
become  an  unmitigated  nuisance,  censure  not  the 
defenceless  stream.  It  has  ever  received  villianous 
treatment  at  our  hands,  and  only  once,  on  that 
memorable  12th  day  of  March,  1849,  has  the  worm 
turned  upon  us,  sweeping  away  the  bridges  at  Kinzie, 
Randolph,  Wells  and  Clark  streets,  and  crushing 
vessels  in  a  chaotic  mass  of  floating  ice  and  wreckage. 

When  it  is  borne  in  mind  that  the  Des  Plaines  river, 
rising  in  the  low  grounds  west  of  Kenosha,  is  the 
watershed  for  750  square  miles,  it  is  not  surprising 
that  at  times  it  should  require  the  assistance  of 
our  streams  to  dispose  of  the  2,880,000,000  barrels 
per  acre  of  precipitation  received  during  an  ordinary 
winter. 

In  the  spring  of  1849  the  warm  rain  carried  the 
snow  off  so  rapidly  that  there  was  four  or  five  feet 
of  water  pouring  into  the  South  Branch,  while  the 


304  EARLY  CHICAGO 

North  Branch,  being  the  watershed  for  about  seventy- 
five  square  miles,  contributed  its  share  in  the  work  of 
destruction.  The  only  wonder  is  that  we  have  not 
had  more  of  the  same  experience  in  the  past,  which 
we  believe  the  improvement  of  the  Des  Plaines  will 
most  likely  obviate  in  the  future. 

Nature  designed  that  our  creek  should  flow  placidly 
along  from  source  to  mouth  midst  matted  grasses 
and  graceful  ferns.  Man  decreed  otherwise.  He 
demanded  it  should  hide  the  garbage  of  a  large  city 
so  deeply  beneath  its  transparent  surface  that  the 
wheels  of  no  steamer,  the  floods  of  no  season  should 
disturb  the  precipitation;  and  that,  in  spite  of  all,  it 
should  remain  as  clear  as  when  the  paddles  of  Indian 
canoes  alone  lifted  its  glittering  diamonds  to  the 
sunshine.  When  men  found  they  were  asking  an 
impossibility,  that  the  city  offal  was  being  carried 
to  the  lake,  there  to  mingle  with  the  supply  of  do- 
mestic water,  they  became  anxious  for  their  health, 
and  demanded  that  nature  should  reverse  its  laws 
and  send  the  current  up  hill,  from  the  lake  to  Bridge- 
port, a  feat  that  required  science.  Archimedes  de- 
clared that  he  could  lift  the  world  if  given  a  place 
upon  which  to  rest  his  fulcrum.  We  prayed  for  an 
Archimedes,  and  while  we  prayed,  Alfred  Guthrie 
and  his  three  sons,  Ossian,  Samuel  and  Wardell, 
created  one.  You  remember  the  clumsy  side-wheel 
tub,  higher  than  a  meeting  house  and  broader  than 
the  prairie,  on  which  we  were  wont  to  ride  to  Bridge- 
port, with  Sam  for  captain  and  pilot  and  Ward  for 
engineer  and  stoker,  or  vice  versa.  Reaching  the 


CROSSING  THE  STREAM  305 

head  of  the  canal,  we  found  in  the  pumping  house 
our  clever  geologist,  Ossian,  and  his  scientific  father, 
solving  the  question  of  causing  our  river  to  reach  a 
higher  level ;  with  a  monstrous  engine  and  ponderous 
pump  they  forced  the  South  Branch  into  the  canal. 
They  had  found  the  lever  Archimedes  sought,  steam, 
and  the  fulcrum,  coal.  For  a  season  we  flattered 
ourselves  that  our  experiment  would  prove  success- 
ful. Archimedes  brought  the  black  diamonds  and 
other  essentials  over  a  smoother  road  than  the  canal 
commissioner,  General  Archer,  built  in  1836 — the 
Archy  Avenoo  of  Dooley — constructed  expressly  for 
taking  supplies  to  the  canal.  The  namesake  of  the 
ancient  Greek  philosopher  was  found  so  much  more 
useful  than  ornamental  that  it  was  assisted  in  the 
course  of  time  by  the  Indiana,  Seneca  and  Kossuth, 
which,  before  the  advent  of  tugs,  added  to  their 
other  duties  the  towing  of  canal  boats  to  and  from 
Bridgeport.  But  the  dipping  of  the  South  Branch 
conglomeration  into  the  canal  only  arrested,  but  did 
not  cure  the  disease  our  city  was  suffering  from.  It 
was  left  for  the  drainage  commissioners  to  try  more 
heroic  treatment,  which  we  all  hope  may  be  satis- 
factory, that  the  supply  of  water  for  our  immense 
population  may  eventually  be  what  it  should  be,  equal 
in  purity  and  abundance  to  any  large  city  on  the 
face  of  the  globe.  Our  present  consumption  is  the 
respectable  quantity  of  some  10,000,000,000  gallons 
per  month.  We  can  well  congratulate  ourselves  that 
we  are  not  now  required  to  depend  upon  our  old 
friends,  the  Pioneer  Water  Company  of  Chicago,  the 


306  EARLY  CHICAGO 

useful  and  honorable  family  of  John  Reis,  to  supply 
us  with  its  five  carts. 

The  First  of  January,  1900,  beheld  the  opening  of 
the  Drainage  Canal,  which  unites  the  Great  Lakes 
and  the  Father  of  Waters,  a  scientific  dream  tested  at 
the  expense  of  over  $33,000,000,  to  be  paid  by  our 
people. 

And  I  have  often  wondered  if  science  will  not  some 
time  provide  a  better  way  to  utilize  our  sewage  than 
to  spend  $33,000,000  in  throwing  it  away. 

However,  I  am  delighted  to  think  that  I  have  been 
permitted  to  see  the  day,  when  the  river,  partly  freed 
from  its  pollutions,  promises  to  be  restored  to  its 
original  condition,  and  that  it  may  again  swarm 
with  its  former  finny  occupants.  It  is  true 

I  never  more  at  nightfall 
Shall  see  the  birch  canoe 
Propelled  by  paddles,  softly, 
Come  slowly  into  view; 
A  pine  knot  burning  brightly, 
The  savage  'neath  its  gleam, 
With  spear,  move  like  a  phantom 
Upon  its  burnished  stream. 

We  hail  thee,  little  river, 

Child  of  the  scented  plain, 

Thy  sad,  polluted  waters 

Will  soon  be  clear  again. 

Those  mighty  glacial  furrows, 

Thrown  open  by  the  Lord, 

Through  which  have  passed  such  torrents, 

Once  more  shall  be  restored. 

The  floods  of  these  fresh  oceans 
Through  their  old  channels  pour, 
The  savage  and  the  trader, 


CROSSING  THE  STREAM  307 

Though  banished  evermore, 
The  portage  they  made  use  of 
Blazed  well  for  us  the  way : 
Canoes  with  their  pelt  cargoes 
Led  the  commerce  of  to-day. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  CANAL 

The  ancient  portage  of  the  Illinois  river  had  sug- 
gested an  artificial  waterway  between  that  river  and 
the  lake,  and  this  had  been  frequently  and  earnestly 
advocated.  As  far  back  as  1822  Congress  granted 
for  that  purpose  "  a  strip  of  land  90  feet  wide  through 
the  public  lands,  from  the  Illinois  river  to  Lake  Mich- 
igan. The  Government  to  go  to  no  expense  for 
surveying."  Five  years  later  the  projectors  were 
further  encouraged  by  the  growing  liberality  of 
Congress,  which,  in  1827,  donated  to  the  state  for  the 
purpose  of  constructing  the  canal,  290,950  acres  of 
land  between  the  lake  and  the  waters  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, along  the  route  of  the  proposed  improvement. 
Daniel  P.  Cook,  after  whom  Cook  county  was  named, 
was  mainly  instrumental  in  securing  the  passage  of 
the  bill,  as  he  was  at  that  time  one  of  our  senators  in 
Congress. 

The  section  of  this  canal  land,  one  mile  square, 
bounded  by  Chicago  avenue,  Madison,  State  and 
Halsted  streets  would  now  be  considered  pretty  valu- 
able property.  In  1829,  when  the  canal  commis- 
sioners appointed  the  surveyor,  James  Thompson,  to 
"  Lay  Out"  the  town  it  was  not  so  valuable.  Finding 
but  7  families  in  the  place,  outside  of  the  garrison, 

809 


310  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Thompson  naturally  concluded  that  it  would  not  re- 
quire a  great  deal  of  land  to  "Lay  Out"  such  a  town, 
the  limits  of  which  were  placed  between  State,  Des 
Plaines,  Madison  and  Kinzie  streets:  convention- 
ally so  called  to  provide  for  the  time  when,  in  the 
dim,  indeterminate  future,  the  place  should  become 
so  citified  as  to  require  streets.  For  years  streets 
were  only  known  by  the  stakes  that  marked  their 
boundaries.  For  the  time  being,  traveling  on  the 
river  was  always  better  than  off  of  it;  the  sloughs, 
not  being  deep  enough  for  boats,  yet  too  deep  for  boots, 
the  7  families  found  birch  bark  canoes  with  light 
paddles  good  enough  for  them  in  summer,  while  in 
winter,  Jack  Frost's  pavement  rendered  it  all  that 
could  be  desired. 

September  27th,  of  the  following  year,  1830—126 
of  the  lots  platted  by  Thompson  were  sold  by  the 
order  of  the  canal  commissioners,  bringing  from  $10 
to  $60  each;  the  average  price  being  $34,  reaching 
in  the  aggregate  $4,284.  The  lots  of  the  original 
town  were  80  by  180  feet.  This  not  furnishing 
enough  money  to  finish  the  canal,  it  was  deemed 
advisable  to  postpone  the  work  and  sale  of  lots  until 
the  arrival  of  more  buyers  in  the  state.  By  1836 
a  considerable  addition  had  been  made  to  the  popu- 
lation, computed  by  those  who  had  unintentionally 
counted  the  same  citizen  twice  at  from  2,000  to  3,000. 
But  few  were  men  of  wealth,  if  Long  John  Went- 
worth's  estimate  was  correct;  for  he  stated  that 
there  was  not  $100,000  in  the  place  when  he  came 
here,  October  25,  1836.  That  would  not  build 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  CANAL  311 

the  canal,  even  should  it  all  be  employed  for  that 
purpose.  Still,  the  commissioners  wanted  to  be 
sure  of  that  much;  therefore,  to  induce  the  people 
to  disgorge  what  cash  they  had  on  hand  and  to 
secure  what  they  might  in  the  future  acquire,  they 
made  the  terms  as  easy  as  did  that  absent  minded 
speculator,  Dr.  William  B.  Egan,  who  directed  his 
lady  patient  to  take  her  medicine — "one  quarter 
down,  the  balance  in  one,  two  and  three  years. " 

The  commissioners  had  great  faith  in  Chicago  real 
estate  operators,  believing  that  if  they  could  only  get 
that  $100,000  cash  payment,  the  buyers  would  have 
the  rest  with  6  per  cent,  interest  when  their  obliga- 
tions matured. 

Every  effort  was  made  to  effect  sales.  Newspapers 
all  over  the  United  States  were  induced  to  boom 
Chicago  and  Illinois,  while  the  few  local  ones  which 
our  young  state  could  boast  of,  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  speculation,  did  everything  that  was  possible 
to  advance  the  interests  of  the  commissioners.  Every 
sale  which  had  ever  yielded  a  good  profit  was  per- 
sistently exploited.  It  was  told  how  Arthur  Bron- 
son's  tract,  or  addition,  bought  in  1833  for  $20,000 
was  sold  in  part  by  William  B.  Ogden  in  1835  for 
$60,000,  one  third  cash,  the  balance  on  one  and  two 
year's  time  at  10  per  cent,  interest.  How  that  blocks 
which  he  could  not  then  sell  for  $300,  sold  the  follow- 
ing season  for  $30,000.  They  were  speculators,  not 
prophets,  or  they  might  have  added  that  the  same 
blocks  would  be  sold  in  1845  for  $5,000,  and  the  $4,000 
lots  of  1836  would  be  knocked  down  in  1841  for  $200. 


312  EARLY  CHICAGO 

They  did  not  foretell  that  acres  sold  in  Ogden's 
division,  between  Kinzie  street  and  Chicago  avenue, 
on  the  west  side,  in  1836,  at  $1,200,  would  not  find  a 
buyer  in  1842,  at  $10.  The  sequence  of  these  mar- 
velous transactions  was  a  thing  of  the  future.  The 
past  and  the  present  were  all  that  they  were  inter- 
ested in. 

If  the  following  editorial  items,  which  I  copy  from 
the  Chicago  American  of  Saturday,  April  23,  1836, 
would  not  cause  speculators  to  camp  on  the  land  and 
pile  over  each  other  in  their  scramble  for  lots,  what 
would? 

A  FACT. 

"There  is  a  piece  of  land  in  Chicago  which  cost  in 
1830,  sixty-two  dollars,  which  has  risen  in  value  at 
the  rate  of  100  per  cent.  PER  DAY  on  the  original 
cost  ever  since,  embracing  a  period  of  five  years. 
Beat  this  if  you  can." 

LARGE  SALES. 

"We  are  frequently  amused  at  the  pompous  style 
in  which  sales  of  real  estate  are  announced  in  eastern 
papers,  especially  in  Buffalo  and  New  York.  Large 
sales  are  so  common  here  that  they  create  no  surprise. 
One  was  made  last  week  for  $96,700,  one-fourth  down, 
and  the  remainder  in  six,  twelve  and  eighteen  months, 
at  10  per  cent,  interest. " 

(It  was  pretty  early  in  the  morning  for  our  young 
game  cock  to  begin  crowing  over  the  large  cities  of 
Buffalo  and  New  York,  but  he  started  the  tune  right, 
and  has  never  missed  a  note  since.) 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  CANAL          313 

"Mechanics  and  laborers  of  all  kinds  find  constant 
employment  at  high  wages  in  this  town." 

"Let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  Canal  Lots  in 
this  town  will  be  offered  for  sale  on  the  20th  day  of 
June  next." 

"Section  15  has  been  laid  off  into  large  lots,  (80x180) 
with  a  promenade,  (similar  to  the  Battery  in  New 
York),  between  them  and  the  Lake,  and  will  be  a 
very  desirable  place  for  residences." 

All  of  which  disinterested  items  were  clinched  by 
an  advertisement  of  the  canal  commissioners,  in 
part  as  follows: 

"We  would  say  to  those  unacquainted  with  the 
situation  of  the  above  mentioned  property,  that 
these  lots,  which  are  described  as  belonging  to  the 
Original  Town  of  Chicago,  are  situated  in  the  best 
built  and  business  part  of  the  Town. 

"Section  15  is  a  dry  ridge,  commencing  near  the 
harbor  and  extending  south  one  mile  along  the  shore 
of  Lake  Michigan. 

"By  order  of  the  Board  of  Commissioners  of  the 
Illinois  and  Michigan  Canal. 

"Attest,  Joel  Manning,  Secretary  to  said  Board, 
Chicago,  March  17,  1836." 

Upon  June  20th,  therefore,  the  sales  commenced, 
and  while  a  good  deal  of  land  was  disposed  of,  the 
prices  would  be  considered  rather  low  to-day — even 
as  a  valuation  for  assessment — notwithstanding  the 
herculian  efforts  of  editors,  commissioners  and  the 
sharp  auctioneers,  Jimmy  Marshall  and  Johnny  Bates. 
For  those  "  dry  lots  80  feet  front  by  180  feet  deep, 


314  EARLY  CHICAGO 

so  much  like  the  Battery, "  sold  for  but  a  little  more 
than  sixty-four  cents  a  front  foot.  To  be  exact, 
$51  each.  Many,  even  at  that  price,  reverted  to  the 
commissioners  as  hard  times  succeeded,  which 
rendered  it  impossible  for  the  unfortunate  buyers 
to  complete  the  purchase.  A  compromise  was  made 
with  such  purchasers,  giving  them  one-quarter  of 
the  land  they  had  bid  in,  for  the  one-quarter  payment 
they  had  made. 

Two  years  later,  in  1838,  so  anxious  was  the  state 
to  dispose  of  the  balance,  that  it  offered  any  of  the 
canal  land  remaining  on  twenty  years  time,  10  per 
cent,  of  the  purchase  in  cash,  6  per  cent,  interest  on 
the  remainder,  taking  in  payment  state  stock  at 
par,  which  could  be  bought  the  following  year  at 
one-third  of  its  par  value. 

What  an  opportunity  for  speculation  was  offered 
to  those  who  had  the  thirty-three  cents! 

In  1836  immediate  work  on  the  canal  was  contem- 
plated, but  it  was  evident  to  all  that  it  could  not  be 
completed  from  the  funds  derived  from  the  sale  of 
the  canal  lands.  The  state,  therefore,  negotiated  a 
loan  of  half  a  million  dollars,  which  provided  for  the 
inauguration  of  the  enterprise.  This  undertaking, 
fraught  with  the  brightest  promise  for  the  future  of 
our  state  and  inspiring  in  the  people  the  highest 
hope,  was  enthusiastically  welcomed  by  them,  and 
a  great  celebration  was  held  to  mark  the  initial  opera- 
tions. I  quote  from  the  Chicago  American  of  May 
21,  1836: 


'315 


NOTICE  OF  CANAL  CELEBRATION! 

Citizens  will  meet  at  the  South  Branch 
Bridge  at  9  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  June 
14,+  to  go  by  boats,  etc.,  to  the  place  of  be- 
ginning the  Canal.  A  procession  of  boats  and 
horsemen  and  carriages  on  land,  to  move 
to  the  place  opposite,  where  W.  B.  Egan 
will  deliver  an  address,  after  which  there 
will  be  refreshments. 

Captain  J.  B.  F.  Russell,  Marshal  of  the 
Day,  assisted  by  Coin.  E.  D.  Taylor,  J.  S.  C. 
Hogan,  Robert  Kinzie,  Henry  Hubbard, 
G.  W.  Snow  and  Walter  Kimball. 

R.  J.  HAMILTON,  Chairman  of  Committee. 
G.    SPUING,    Secretary    of    Committee. 


This  great,  historic  event  was  postponed  until 
July  4th. 

At  11  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  that  day  the  small 
steamer,  Chicago,  towing  two  diminutive  sloops, 
crowded  with  men,  women  and  children  (I  ranked 
with  the  latter  at  that  time)  proceeded  to  Canalport, 
now  Bridgeport,  to  celebrate  the  great  occasion. 
It  was  a  beautiful  day.  With  a  band  of  music  play- 
ing, and  banners  flying,  all  assembled  at  the  house 
fitted  up  for  the  ceremonies,  where  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  was  read  by  Judge  Smith,  who 
made  a  prophetic  speech  as  well,  though  Dr.  William 
B.  Egan  was  announced  as  the  Orator  of  the  Day. 

*The  celebration  did  not  occur  as  announced,  and  I  am  uncharitable 
enough  to  attribute  the  failure  to  the  Marshal  of  the  Day.  For  I  well 
remember  that  years  afterwards,  when  Captain  Russell — (then  called 
Colonel) — was  honored  with  the  position  of  Marshal  he  so  exasperated 
those  taking  part  in  the  processions,  by  the  delay  he  caused  them,  while 
he  was  getting  himself  up  in  splendor  of  polished  boots,  brass  buttons  and 
gilt  tasseled  scarf,  that  the  honor  passed  to  prompter  men. 


316  EARLY  CHICAGO 

The  American's  report  of  this  time  is  as  follows: 

"They  then  repaired  to  the  spot  designated,  when 
the  excavation  ceremonies  commenced.  Col.  Archer, 
the  acting  commissioner,  after  a  short  address,  then 
broke  the  ground  amidst  the  shouts  and  cheers  of 
the  assembled  multitude.  He  was  followed  by 
Judge  Smith  and  Col.  G.  S.  Hubbard,  canal  com- 
missioner. The  Colonel  in  an  impressive  manner 
contrasted  the  condition  of  this  place  and  the  north- 
ern part  of  Illinois  eight  years  ago  when  he  first 
ascended  the  Chicago  river  in  a  canoe,  at  which  time 
all  north  of  St.  Louis  was  a  waste  uninhabited  ex- 
cept by  wandering  Indians,  with  its  present  pros- 
perous and  thrifty  aspect,  its  active  and  enterprising 
population,  its  intelligence  and  beauty." 

There  is  another  legend  of  this  event  given  by 
Fernando  Jones,  showing  how  the  Irrepressible  Boy 
nearly  robbed  the  older  people  of  all  the  glory  of  the 
affair. 

The  shovel  used  on  this  historical  occasion  was 
donated  by  Jones,  King  &  Co.,  the  wheelbarrow  by 
one  of  our  typical  Chicago  men,  who  never  allowed 
their  good  deeds  to  appear  in  print,  while  the  ribbons 
with  which  they  were  decorated  were  the  gift  of  the 
dry  goods  merchant,  Walter  Kimball.  Lew  Hooker, 
a  lad  in  his  uncle  Kimball's  store,  Fernando  Jones  and 
John  C.  Haines,  whose  employer  was  suspected  of 
furnishing  the  wheelbarrow,  assumed  the  responsi- 
bility of  getting  the  tools  onto  the  ground;  reaching 
which  they  felt  tempted  to  proceed  with  the  cere- 
monies. Fernando  gave  the  barrow  a  sacred  load  of 
earth,  Lew  wheeled  it  a  short  distance,  and  Johnny 


1'HE  STORY  OF  THE  CANAL          317 

emptied  it.  The  boys  having  shown  how  the  thing 
should  be  done,  the  sedate  seniors  were  enabled  to 
discharge  the  duties  devolving  upon  them,  and  make 
speeches  calculated  to  encourage  their  hearers  to  in- 
vest in  canal  lands  and  reap  a  harvest  in  the  glorious 
future. 

In  going  to  the  grounds  a  party  of  Irishmen,  em- 
ployed by  Frank  Sherman  in  his  brick-yard  near  the 
east  bank  of  the  river  at  Adams  street,  had  assem- 
bled to  join  us,  and  insisted  upon  being  taken  aboard; 
but  everything  being  crowded  no  stop  was  made. 
At  this  they  were  highly  incensed,  and  upon  our  re- 
turn they  assailed  the  excursionists  with  brickbats. 
But  it  was  the  American  eagle's  birthday  and  the 
proud  bird,  led  by  the  intrepid  Ashbel  Steele,  scattered 
the  hilarious  graduates  of  Donneybrook  Fair,  re- 
turning in  triumph  with  the  scalps  of  a  few  of  the 
aggressors,  (still  attached  to  the  heads  that  grew 
them),  which  were  placed  in  the  Watch  House. 
Quite  a  number  were  hurt  on  both  sides,  but  the 
courage  displayed  by  our  brave  defenders,  and  par- 
ticularly by  Steele,  was  highly  extolled,  and  may 
have  had  some  influence  in  electing  that  worthy 
person  sheriff  of  the  county  in  1842. 

The  construction  of  the  canal,  so  auspiciously 
begun,  was,  after  many  vicissitudes,  completed  in 
1848,  and  on  April  10th  a  number  of  packets  loaded 
with  officials  and  prominent  citizens,  towed  by  the 
little  steamer,  General  Fry — named  in  honor  of  our 
leading  commissioner  and  head  of  the  land  office  at 
Lockport — started  with  a  band  of  music  and  flutter- 


318  EARLY  CHICAGO 

ing  flags  for  La  Salle,  mid  the  noisy  farewells  of 
interested  spectators.  Bands  played,  speeches  were 
made  and  powder  burnt  at  the  principal  places 
en  route,  and  the  great  waterway  through  which 
once  flowed  the  ladened  floods  of  the  frozen  north, 
following  very  nearly  the  course  of  the  Aboriginal 
canoe,  the  French  discoverers  and  the  Mackinac 
boats  of  the  more  recent  Indian  traders,  was  opened 
for  that  commerce  which  has  contributed  so  much 
to  the  prosperity  of  our  city  and  state. 

This  canal  trip  in  one  of  those  new,  inviting  packets 
was  for  a  number  of  seasons  a  society  fad  of  which 
many  availed  themselves  in  spring  and  fall,  when  the 
heat  was  not  oppressive  nor  the  mosquitoes  ravenous. 
For  weeks,  the  packet  leaving  the  foot  of  Washing- 
ton street  every  morning  was  an  event  of  sufficient 
importance  to  assemble  a  crowd  of  interested  people. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

OUR  WATER  SUPPLY 

To  an  old  Pioneer  the  water  at  present  consumed 
by  the  city  seems  enormous,  it  being  in  August,  1900, 
10,685,709,442  gallons,  costing  $18,409.  It  is  esti- 
mated that  this  quantity  would  fill  a  square  quarter 
of  a  mile  in  the  lake  to  a  depth  of  |  of  a  mile.  The 
Stock  Yards  alone  absorb  at  least  900,000,000  gallons 
a  year. 

It  is  well  that  it  does  not  cost  as  formerly,  10  cents 
a  barrel,  but  even  at  that  price  I  do  not  find  listed 
under  the  head  of  multi-millionaires  the  Hebes  and 
Ganymedes  of  our  little  hamlet.  There  were  not 
many  of  them.  Did  you  run  short  some  day,  you 
looked  for  Anton  Berg  on  the  west  side  of  La  Salle 
street,  about  100  feet  south  of  Lake,  or  for  Joseph 
Seger  on  Chicago  avenue  near  Pearson.  If  you  want- 
ed aristocratic  watermen,  you  called  for  Thomas  West 
on  the  corner  of  Pine  and  Illinois  streets,  or  for  James 
on  Michigan  between  Rush  and  Pine  streets. 

On  State  street  was  the  Reis  family,  regular 
ducks,  all  taking  to  water;  John  P.  Sr.  and  Jr.  with 
Michael  and  Jacob  N.  at  number  175.  Peter  at  173. 
These  were  the  regular  cup  bearers  that  brought 
nectar  to  us  gods  from  the  Chicago  river,  when  the 
Lake  was  rough  and  the  water  roily.  With  a  hogs- 

810 


320  EARLY  CHICAGO 

head  placed  on  its  side  on  a  two  wheeled  cart,  with  a 
hole  sawed  in  the  upper  surface  to  receive  the  con- 
tents of  the  long  handled  bucket,  the  boys  would 
drive  into  the  water,  and  standing  on  the  heavy 
shafts  fill  the  cask,  which  was  emptied  in  barrels  at 
our  doors  through  a  short  leathern  hose. 

At  times  our  regulars  would  have  competitors. 
New  arrivals,  having  enough  means  to  get  an  outfit 
would  go  into  the  business,  until  something  more 
promising  offered.  There  being  but  few  wells,  the  water 
of  which  was  pleasant  to  the  taste  or  wholesome  to 
drink,  we  depended  upon  our  German  friends  to  sup- 
plement the  rain  water  in  summer  and  the  melted 
snow  in  winter,  so  carefully  conserved  by  all  good 
housewives.  Those  living  near  the  lake  or  river 
helped  themselves,  as  did  the  cattle;  and  the  team- 
sters watered  their  horses  there.  In  the  winter  they 
cut  holes  in  the  ice  at  the  foot  of  the  neighboring 
street  and  dipped  up  the  oft  times  steaming  water. 
Father's  barn  was  in  the  rear  of  the  Randolph  street 
lot,  and  in  summer  I  was  wont  to  ride  the  horses  from 
there  to  water;  but  in  winter  I  magnanimously  grant- 
ed the  hired  man  that  privilege.  Father  at  an  early 
day  dug  a  well,  however,  which  saved  that  trouble 
and  proved  a  great  convenience  to  the  entire  neigh- 
borhood, including  the  school  in  Chapman's  building. 
As  our  streets  were  never  sprinkled,  our  lawns — the 
native  sward — never  watered,  while  our  gardens  bided 
the  time  for  Jupiter  Pluvius  to  attend  to  their  neces- 
sities, but  comparatively  little  water  was  then  re- 
quired. 


OUR  WATER  SUPPLY  321 

The  Pioneers,  who  had  been  dependent  upon  a  few 
wells,  the  rain,  melted  snow  and  our  indispensable 
watermen  with  barrels,  for  supply,  were  always  hoping 
for  something  better.  In  fact,  the  Hydraulic  Co. 
had  been  incorporated  by  James  Long  and  others  as 
early  as  1836,  the  company  obtaining  a  70  year's  char- 
ter, with  a  capital  stock  of  $25,000.  But  hard  times 
immediately  ensuing,  it  was  impossible  to  realize  on 
the  stock,  and  it  was  not  until  1840  that  work  com- 
menced, the  funds  being  then  supplied  by  eastern 
capitalists.  It  required  $24,000  to  complete  the 
enterprise,  which  was  done  in  1842. 

The  event  was  celebrated  by  our  proud,  happy 
people  with  a  glorious  procession,  followed  by  speeches 
and  powder.  We  were  quite  vain  of  our  enormous 
24  horse  power  engine  on  the  lake  shore  at  the  foot  of 
Lake  street,  to  look  after  which  Ira  Miltemore  had 
given  up  his  steam  sash  factory  on  the  South  Branch. 
It  was  the  boast  of  the  town  that  with  it  Ira  could 
raise  25  barrels  of  the  crystal  fluid  per  minute  35 
feet  above  the  lake,  pumping  our  1250  barrel  reser- 
voir full  in  50  minutes,  besides  grinding  flour.  But 
equally  elated  were  we  at  our  grand  victory  over  the 
defiant  giant  that  had  caused  us  so  many  sleepless 
nights  and  anxious  days  along  in  the  thirties. 

In  spite  of  hoarse  grumbling  and  mighty  waves, 
we  had  successfully  invaded  his  treacherous  domain, 
and  carried  our  14-inch  "in  take"  320  feet  from  the 
shore,  protecting  it  by  a  well  ballasted  pier.  And 
how  hilarious  those  aristocrats  became,  who  had  two 
story  houses  with  pipes  in  the  upper  story,  when  in- 


322  EARLY  CHICAGO 

credulously  turning  an  up  stairs  faucet,  with  fear 
and  trembling,  they  saw  the  precious  fluid  trickle 
through  it. 

And  how  well  we  remember,  as  Professor  Wheeler 
puts  it,  "seeing  John  McGarvin  and  his  three  men 
working  on  a  lot  near  Madison  street  and  State, 
boring  3^-inch  holes  through  those  one  foot  cedar 
logs  10  feet  long."  There  were  two  miles  of  those 
logs  laid  more  than  three  feet  under  ground,  where 
they  were  safe  from  the  frost,  before  the  water  was 
turned  on  and  we  had  our  blow  out.  Even  to-day 
men  excavating  in  our  streets  occasionally  find,  much 
to  their  wonderment,  below  the  lowest  stratum  of 
paving  planks — where  we  once  had  to  wallow — what 
seems  to  them  the  aqueduct  of  some  prehistoric  city, 
still  in  a  state  of  perfect  preservation.  There  were 
nine  miles  of  these  pipes  laid  under  the  superintend- 
ence of  Asa  Bradley,  at  the  time  the  Hydraulic 
Mills  were  relieved  by  the  succeeding  company  of  the 
great  task  they  had  assumed  of  furnishing  us  with 
water  and  helping  Gage  &  Haines  to  supply  us  with 
flour.  At  times  there  would  be  a  break-down,  re- 
quiring the  aid  of  watermen  again.  Even  our  wealthy 
and  prominent  Jacob  Rehm  tells  me  that  on  such 
occasions  he  used  to  draw  water  from  the  river,  at  the 
foot  of  Dearborn  street  for  the  use  of  the  Tremont. 
He  was  a  boy  then,  but  he  would  not  feel  above  doing 
it  now  if  he  had  to. 

The  Firemen  were  greatly  elated  when  the  council 
ordered,  Nov.  22nd,  1841,  "that  the  Committee  act 
with  the  Mayor  to  secure  from  the  Hydraulic  Co.,  the 


OUR  WATER  SUPPLY  323 

hydrant  already  down  and  procure  five  additional, 
on  the  most  favorable  terms  and  have  them  put 
down/' 

James  Long,  to  whom  we  were  so  much  indebted 
for  our  daily  bread  and  water,  was  appointed  Light- 
house Keeper  in  1845,  and  James  Allen,  our  pioneer 
dock  builder,  with  Vigil  C.  Walter,  under  the  name 
of  Allen  &  Walter  succeeded  "The  Father  of  the 
water  works." 

But  the  city  outgrew  its  swaddling  clothes.  The 
storms  filled  the  in-take  with  roily  water,  and, 
worst  of  all,  with  small  fishes  which,  undergoing 
putrefaction,  made  the  water  not  only  offensive  to 
taste  and  smell,  but  detrimental  to  health.  Besides, 
the  growth  of  the  population  and  the  erection  of 
higher  buildings  demanded  a  new  departure,  as 
radical  as  any  that  had  been  made,  to  furnish  us  with 
an  adequate  amount  of  wholesome  water. 

On  February  15th,  1851,  a  company  was  organized 
to  increase  and  improve  the  water  supply,  retaining 
the  franchise  in  the  hands  of  the  people. 

This  measure  was  strongly  advocated  by  all  of  our 
papers,  with  one  exception.  On  August  25th  follow- 
ing, George  Schneider,  a  young  German  newspaper 
man,  arrived  here,  and  together  with  the  other  public- 
spirited  editors  was  soon  an  important  factor  in  the 
fierce  battle  already  begun.  Mr.  Schneider  at  once 
became  managing  editor  of  the  Staats  Zeitung,  which 
was  started  on  January  1st,  preceding,  and  was  al- 
ready the  most  influential  German  paper  in  the  north- 
west. A  broad,  liberal,  energetic  man,  of  nervous 


324  EARLY  CHICAGO 

temperment,  unflinching  courage,  above  the  bribes 
of  power  and  allurements  of  ambition,  he  threw  into 
every  cause  he  espoused  determination  to  achieve, 
guided  by  the  powers  of  a  fine  intellect,  classical  cul- 
ture and  valuable  experience  as  a  newspaper  man. 
Thus  equipped,  he  took  up  the  cause  of  the  people 
for  the  municipal  ownership  of  their  water  supply, 
bending  every  energy  consistent  with  scrupulous 
honesty  to  put  into  power  Walter  S.  Gurnee,  as  Mayor, 
and  a  board  of  Aldermen  favoring  his  views.  For 
two  months  were  fought  with  trenchant  blows,  James 
Curtis,  Gurnee's  opponent,  and  the  truculent  spirit 
of  John  Wentworth,  who,  as  editor  of  the  Democrat, 
under  the  specious  plea  of  Economy  and  Reform,  in- 
variably opposed  every  step  of  the  city's  progress, 
when  its  advancement  would  be  likely  to  increase 
the  taxes  and  assessments  on  the  unproductive  prop- 
erty he  owned. 

The  4,500  voters  wisely  decided  that  the  people 
should  own  their  own  water  plant,  and  elected  the 
men  who  inaugurated  the  system  which  has  been, 
and  will  continue  to  be  of  inestimable  benefit  to  the 
community,  furnishing  water  at  a  reasonable  figure, 
and  yet  yielding  the  city  a  profit  of  between  15  and 
20  millions  of  dollars.  It  now  nets  nearly  $2,000,- 
000  a  year,  of  which  the  people  are  the  recipients. 
We  then  had  a  population  of  about  30,000  people. 
To  meet  our  constantly  growing  needs,  has  required 
but  a  generous  expansion  of  the  same  general  system, 
inaugurated  half  a  century  ago;  though  to  keep  the 


OUR  WATER  SUPPLY  325 

supply  free  from  contamination  has  been  the  most 
serious  and  important  question  with  which  we  have 
had  to  contend.  At  times  we  are  lulled  into  a  feel- 
ing of  perfect  safety  by  its  seeming  purity,  suddenly 
to  learn  that  untoward  circumstances  have  rendered 
it  "Dangerous  without  boiling,"  though  the  thought 
of  what  we  may  then  be  drinking  should  be  repulsive 
to  our  sensibility. 

It  is  the  anticipation  of  all  that  our  present  drainage 
system  may  eventually  accomplish  the  desired  ob- 
ject, still  we  cannot  for  several  years  be  certain  of 
always  obtaining  a  supply  that  can  be  drunk  with 
impunity.  It  must  necessarily  be  some  time  before 
the  mass  of  filth  that  has  been  precipitated  into  the 
lake  for  so  many  years  will  be  removed  or  become 
innoxious.  The  immense  volume  of  water — 300,000 
cubic  feet  at  a  minimum  flow  and  600,000  cubic  feet 
at  a  maximum  flow — that  finds  its  way  every  minute 
through  the  Drainage  Canal,  will  probably  disturb 
the  precipitation,  which  disturbance  storms  and  the 
vast  fields  of  ice  in  their  transit  will  greatly  augment, 
all  having  a  deleterious  effect  upon  this  most  essential 
ingredient  in  our  household  economy.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  our  health  officers  and  physicians  will  not 
allow  themselves  to  become  inattentive  to  this  im- 
portant matter  in  the  fond  hope  that  the  enormous 
expense  we  have  gladly  assumed  to  secure  pure  water 
must  necessarily  furnish  it;  but  will  continue  to  be 
alert  until  Chicago  absolutely  and  constantly  possesses 
what  she  has  struggled  so  hard  and  persistently  to 


326  EARLY  CHICAGO 

obtain,  regardless  of  millions  of  expense  in  water 
plants  and  sewerage  systems,  the  greatest  supply  and 
purest  water  of  any  large  city  on  the  face  of  the 
globe. 


CHAPTER  XXV  * 

TRANSPORTATION  BY  LAND  AND  WATER 

When  people  first  began  to  think  it  worth  while 
to  come  to  Chicago,  it  was  not  the  age  of  steam  and 
the  telegraph — although  a  steamer  is  reported  to 
have  visited  the  place  in  1818.  But  such  compli- 
ments were  seldom  bestowed  until  many  years  after. 

In  fact,  navigation  was  extremely  dangerous,  as 
there  was  on  the  entire  chain  of  lakes  but  one  light- 
house, which  was  located  at  Erie,  Pennsylvania. 

The  first  systematic  effort  in  the  carrying  trade 
was  the  result  of  an  agreement  entered  into  hi 
1834  between  Pratt,  Taylor  &  Co.,  of  Buffalo,  and 
Gurdon  S.  Hubbard,  for  forming  a  Transportation 
Company,  known  as  the  "Erie  Line."  Their  fleet 
was  composed  of  four  vessels,  the  brigs,  Illinois  and 
Indiana,  and  the  Queen  Charlotte  and  Commodore 
Perry.  These  war  vessels  had  been  raised  from  the 
bottom  of  Lake  Erie,  where  they  had  lain  since  1812, 
thoroughly  overhauled  and  made  ready  for  business. 
Arriving  on  the  brig,  Illinois,  on  May  25, 1835,  we  were 
the  line's  first  passengers,  and  our  goods  made  the 
first  freight  landed  in  this  place  by  that  or  any  other 
organized  company. 

In  the  following  year  a  regular  steamer  was  put  on 
between  Chicago  and  Buffalo.  It  was  advertised 

327 


328  EARLY  CHICAGO 

that  "The  steamboat  Michigan  (propelled  by  two 
powerful  low  pressure  engines)  will  perform  her  trips 
for  the  year  1836  agreeably  to  the  following  arrange- 
ments: Between  Buffalo  and  Detroit,  26  times," 
(dates  all  given).  "She  will  make  four  trips  during 
the  season  to  Milwaukee  and  Chicago — weather  per- 
mitting she  will  leave  Chicago  June  13,  July  11, 
August  14  and  September  11." 

Chicago  felt  proud  of  that;  and  the  boys  were  very 
happy  when  the  steamboat  did  as  had  been  announced, 
for  school  was  dismissed  on  the  occasions  of  her 
arrivals,  and  everybody  crowded  to  the  river  banks,  to 
welcome  the  strangers,  while  the  Indians  in  their 
canoes  paddled  in  the  stream  around  the  monster. 
Before  the  gang-plank  was  out,  the  wharf  was  crowded, 
and  the  hotel  porters,  with  their  extra  "Runners," 
made  a  perfect  pandemonium  with  their  cries  of, 
"This  way  for  the  Tremont  House,  nearest  hotel 
to  the  stage  office."  "Free  bus  to  the  Lake  House 
on  the  bank  of  the  beautiful  river,  and  in  full  view 
of  the  lake.  The  largest  brick  hotel  in  the  city." 
"Right  this  way  for  the  City  Hotel,  opposite  the 
public  square,  best  meals  and  cleanest  rooms  in 
town."  "New  York  House,  newly  painted  and  papered, 
best  beds  in  town."  "  Illinois  Exchange,  a  quiet  fam- 
ily hotel,  free  bus  right  this  way."  "  Mansion  House, 
finest  hotel  in  the  center  of  the  place,  in  the  heart  of 
the  business  district."  "  United  States  Hotel,  largest 
hotel  on  the  west  side,  fine  view  of  a  grand  western 
prairie,  free  bus,  no  bar." 


TRANSPORTATION  329 

There  were  three  runners  for  each  caravansary, 
led  by  such  worthies  as  Lebbus  Ball,  Jack  Rice  and 
J.  B.  Hall,  yelling  constantly  at  the  top  of  their  voices. 
They  seized  the  old  fashioned  carpet  bags  and  clothes- 
ladened  champagne  baskets  from  the  hands  of  their 
suspicious  owners,  grabbed  band-boxes  and  babies 
from  the  arms  of  protesting  mothers;  all  the  while  pull- 
ing and  shouting  and  crowding,  until  the  bewildered 
immigrants  were  almost  distracted,  and  frantic  par- 
ents, like  distressed  hens  trying  to  shield  their  fright- 
ened broods  from  swooping  hawks,  called  out  to  their 
scattered  youngsters.  With  many  misgivings  as  to 
their  safety,  the  new  comers  were  driven  to  their 
respective  hotels,  without  much  election  on  their  part. 

The  passengers  and  their  luggage  having  been  dis- 
posed of,  the  docks  soon  began  to  fill  up  with  goods 
of  every  description  for  the  anxious  merchants, 
who  had  purchased  them  over  a  month  ago,  and  every 
item  of  the 

"NEW   GOODS   JUST   RECEIVED" 

was  duly  advertised  in  the  American  and  Democrat  in 
their  next  issue.  There  were  no  commercial  travel- 
ers in  those  days,  and  merchants  had  to  go  east  in 
person  to  select  their  stocks. 

But  we  did  not  depend  exclusively  upon  the 
"staunch,  500-ton  steamboat, Michigan, "  (much larger 
ones  could  not  then  cross  the  bar)  even  if  she  had 
"improved  her  ladies'  cabin,  and  added  eight  large 
staterooms  adjoining."  For  we  read: 


330  EARLY  CHICAGO 

MARINE  JOURNAL — PORT  OP  CHICAGO. 
ARRIVED: 

April  18, 1836.  Str.,  "  Supply, "  from  Grand  River, 
Michigan  Territory,  with  lumber  and  passengers. 

19.  Str.,  "Mississippi,"  from  St.  Joseph,  with 
flour,  lumber,  &c. 

21.  Sloop,  "  Westward  Ho, "  from  Milwaukee,  with 
passengers. 

CLEARED: 

April  13.    Sloop, "  Westward  Ho,"  for  Milwaukee. 
19.     Str.,  "Essex,"  for  St.  Joseph. 
19.    Str.,  "John  Grant  Jr.,"  for  Milwaukee. 
21.    Str.,  "Supply,"  for  Grand  River. 

You  will  observe  they  all  brought  cargoes  but  re- 
turned empty.  Why  should  we  not  grow?  I  re- 
member 'that  it  used  to  be  one  of  father's  boasts  that 
in  the  fall  of  1835,  he  saw,  one  Sunday,  no  less  than 
9  vessels  riding  at  anchor  on  the  lake. 

In  1839  and  '40  we  showed  our  appreciation  of 
more  rapid  transit  than  we  had  heretofore  enjoyed, 
by  such  items  as  these  hi  the  American: 

TRAVELING. 

"  Distance  in  these  days  should  be  measured  by  hours, 
not  miles.  New  York  to  Cleveland  84  hours.  Cleve- 
land to  Chicago  by  lake  96  hours.  Newspapers  can 
now  be  received  in  Cleveland  from  New  York  in  three 
and  one  half  days,  distance  660  miles.  From  Cleve- 
land to  Chicago  one  may  travel  in  a  good  steamboat 
in  4  days,  about  800  miles. 

June   15,    1839." 


TRANSPORTATION  331 

"August  13,  1840. 

RAPID  TRAVELING. 

"We  understand  that  one  of  our  merchants  recently 
reached  New  York  from  this  city  in  six  days.  He  took 
the  steamer  to  Buffalo,  then  railroad  and  steamer  to 
Lewiston  and  Syracuse,  then  railroad  to  Albany,  and 
steamer  to  New  York,  without  any  delay.  This  is 
indeed  rapid  traveling — and  is  a  remarkable  com- 
mentary on  the  past  and  on  the  still  greater  improve- 
ments of  the  future.  Six  days  from  Chicago  to  New 
York !  Only  think  of  it." 

"August  12,  1840. 

GREAT    EXPEDITION. 

"We  understand  that  goods  were  received  at  the 
warehouse  of  Bristol  &  Porter  by  steamer,  Madison, 
in  12  days  from  New  York  City.  Shipped  by  the 
N.  Y.  and  Ohio  Line,  on  the  Canal." 

The  schooners  touching  at  this  port  in  the  early 
thirties  had  no  return  freight,  save  a  few  hides,  a 
little  wool,  bees  wax,  tallow,  honey  and  pelts.  But 
those  conditions  gradually  changed,  and  not  only 
were  those  commodities  sent  east  in  larger  quan- 
tities, but  eggs,  potatoes,  onions,  butter,  etc.,  as  well 
as  grain,  salt  pork  and  corned  beef,  which  were  reg- 
ularly shipped,  instead  of  received. 

Our  papers  not  only  teemed  with  the  advertise- 
ments of  New  Orleans,  Buffalo  and  New  York  mer- 
chants, soliciting  the  patronage  of  the  northwest,  but 
with  those  also  of  companies  desirous  of  transporting 
their  purchases  by  "Lake  Erie,  Ohio  and  Oswego 


332  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Canals,  Oswego  and  Welland  Canal,  vessels  and  steam- 
boats on  the  lakes,  and  all  Chicago  agents  having  con- 
nected themselves  with  a  line  of  transportation 
wagons  between  Chicago  and  the  head  of  navigation 
on  the  Illinois  river  and  other  points,  will  forward 
daily  all  goods  consigned  to  them  to  any  point  on  the 
Illinois  river,  to  St.  Louis  or  other  places  of  des- 
tination." To-day  hundreds  of  trains  leave  the  city 
for  each  wagon  that  did  then.  The  transfer  of 
passengers  was  equally  primitive  and  tedious. 

The  first  line  of  stages  between  here  and  St.  Louis 
was  inaugurated  by  our  public  spirited  citizen,  Dr. 
J.  T.  Temple,  the  first  stage  starting  on  New  Year's 
day  of  1834.  This  was  an  unfortunate  trip.  The 
driver  suffered  greatly  from  the  exposure,  and  was 
left  by  the  Doctor  at  Holdeman's  Grove,  on  the  road 
to  Ottawa,  where  he  succumbed  to  his  hardships,  the 
perilous  duty  of  driver  devolving  upon  the  Doctor  and 
John  D.  Caton,  then  a  young  lawyer.  The  embryo 
Judge  having  been  once  part  way  over  the  road  was 
"  retained  in  this  case  "  as  pilot.  The  narrative  given 
by  the  Judge  of  the  long,  tedious  journey  is  full  of  in- 
terest, but  we  must  omit  it. ' 

Before  we  moved  from  Lake  street,  near  Dearborn, 
Frink  &  Walker's  stage  office  was  on  the  corner  two 
doors  east  of  us,  and  I  was  always  interested  in  the 
arrival  and  departure  of  those  old  stages.  Many  who 
had  seen  similar  old  hulks  in  the  homes  of  their  child- 
hood had,  like  me,  a  sentimental  feeling  for  those 
swinging,  plunging  coaches,  which  was  entirely  dis- 
sipated when  they  came  to  ride  in  them  over  the  cor- 


TRANSPORTATION  333 

duroys  of  Michigan,  and  with  rails  pried  them  out  of 
the  sloughs  of  Indiana.  The  romance  of  stage 
travel  wore  off  with  the  polish  of  their  boots  and  the 
gloss  of  their  clothing.  Lost  was  the  charm  of  the 
four  mettlesome  horses  that  were  wont  to  dash  up  to 
the  stage  office  on  a  dead  run,  clearing  by  barely  an 
inch  another  stage  that  was  just  ready,  with  a  bang 
of  the  door  and  crack  of  the  whip,  to  pull  out  in 
another  direction. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

STATE   INTERNAL   IMPROVEMENTS  AND 
URBAN    TRANSIT 

In  1836  the  spirit  of  speculation,  which  had  recently 
become  rife  in  Chicago  (owing  in  a  great  measure  to 
the  effort  made  to  sell  canal  lots),  extended  far  and 
wide.  The  little,  insignificant  trading  post  had  in  the 
minds  of  many  become  a  veritable  El  Dorado.  This 
craze  pervaded  the  entire  state,  and  led  the  excited 
populace  in  obscure  hamlets  to  set  their  traps,  that 
they  might  decoy  some  of  the  infatuated  thousands 
who  were  flocking  hither  from  all  parts  of  the 
Union. 

This  was  to  be  a  glorious  epoch  for  our  state  and 
people  who  went  wild  over  internal  improvements. 
No  ordinary  achievements  would  satisfy  their  bound- 
less ambition.  They  scoffed  at  the  little  coal  tram- 
way, running  six  miles  from  East  St.  Louis,  drawn  by 
mules.  Yet  modest  as  it  was,  it  was  quite  useful, 
which  was  more  than  could  be  said  of  the  one  genuine 
railroad  out  of  the  multitude  which  the  common- 
wealth, in  a  paternal  spirit,  had  undertaken  to  con- 
struct. This  remarkable  exception,  finished  in  1842 
at  the  cost  of  a  million  dollars,  bore  the  expressive 
name  of  "Northern  Cross  Road,"  a  part  of  which  ap- 
pellation truly  expressed  the  feelings  of  the  commu- 

835 


336  EARLY  CHICAGO 

nity  when  at  the  end  of  five  miserable  years  of  finan- 
cial failure  they  disposed  of  it  for  $21,100. 

In  1839  (after  the  inception  of  this  road),  Spring- 
field, which  was  its  initial  point,  became  our  State 
Capital.  Should  you  be  very  solicitous  to  ascertain 
the  terminal  point,  search  carefully  along  the  Illinois 
river,  and  if  you  have  a  map  containing  the  name 
of  every  cross-road,  you  will  find  what  you  never  saw 
before,  the  name  of  Meredosia;  known  by  the  suckers 
only,  as  "Mary  Doash,"  until  it  passed  into  its  pres- 
ent state  of  oblivion. 

The  building  of  this  railway  was  in  compliance  with 
the  demand  of  the  people.  To  meet  that  public  wish 
the  Legislature  of  1836-37  passed  a  law  authorizing 
the  construction  of  1300  miles  of  railroad  to  and  from 
towns  never  known,  or  now  forgotten,  which  were  to 
be  commenced  simultaneously  at  each  end. 

At  the  same  time  our  State  Solons  resolved  that 
our  dry  rivers  must  be  rendered  navigable,  and  that 
the  counties  which  had  nothing  to  make  a  river  of, 
and  were  not  treated  to  railroads,  should  each  have 
a  $200,000  sugar  plum.  To  give  the  people  all  of 
these  delightful  things — make  most  of  them  happy 
and  the  rest  rich — $8,000,000  more  was  voted,  to  be 
raised  by  loan,  the  same  as  the  half  million  for  the 
canal  had  been,  which  work  was  also  voted  another 
loan  of  $4,000,000. 

Thus  by  legislative  enactments  did  our  wise  men 
show  their  equally  wise  constituents  how  easy  it  was 
for  a  man  to  raise  himself  by  his  boot  straps. 

But  our  Utopian  dreamers  were  awakened  from 


URBAN  TRANSIT  337 

their  trance,  by  "The  Great  Eternal."  Old  Hickory 
would  not  permit  his  land  agents  to  receive  anything 
but  coin  in  payment  for  the  Public  Domain.  The 
cardboard  castles  fell  to  the  ground,  burying  in- 
ternal improvements,  state  credit  and  individual 
hopes  in  their  ruins.  In  1837  the  banks  throughout 
the  country,  including  our  state  bank,  suspended 
specie  payment.  To  cheer  the  hearts  of  the  infatuated 
people  this  suspension  by  our  state  bank  was  legal- 
ized. More  money  was  needed,  and  in  the  following 
year  new  loans  were  made,  by  issuing  state  bonds, 
which  were  sold  at  heavy  discounts,  and  the  money 
squandered.  More  were  placed  upon  the  market  to 
meet  accruing  interest.  A  large  number  of  the  people 
objected  paying  interest  on  par  value  of  the  bonds, 
as  in  many  instances  the  holders  had  purchased  them 
at  a  small  percentage  of  their  face  value.  The  legis- 
lature, by  levying  an  additional  tax  of  10  cents  on 
every  hundred  dollars  worth  of  property,  enabled  the 
commissioners  to  pay  the  interest,  and  it  also  em- 
powered them  to  decide  which  would  be  legal — to 
pay  interest  on  the  full  face  value  of  the  bonds,  or  on 
the  amount  for  which  they  were  sold  to  present 
holders.  Thus  were  the  difficulties  which  beset  them, 
for  the  time  being  overcome.  But  on  July  1st,  1841, 
payment  of  interest  was  stopped  the  second  time. 
With  a  debt  of  $14,000,000  contracted  for  internal 
improvements,  and  $313,000  for  customary  expenses 
of  the  government;  with  the  currency  of  the  state 
annihilated  by  the  final  failure  of  the  state  bank  in 
February,  1842,  in  consequence  of  which  disaster  noth- 


338  EARLY  CHICAGO 

ing  could  be  paid  or  collected;  with  the  state  treas- 
ury utterly  bankrupt,  not  containing  enough  money 
to  pay  postage  on  the  usual  letters,  the  state 
and  the  people  were  in  a  truly  deplorable  condition. 
Then  did  Thomas  Ford,  one  of  the  Judges  of  the 
Supreme  Court,  and  recently  elected  Governor,  set 
resolutely  to  work,  and,  aided  by  men  of  probity  and 
ability,  successfully  redeemed  the  state  and  its  citi- 
zens, and  placed  its  credit  in  an  ever  increasing  pros- 
perous condition.  The  process  by  which  all  this  was 
accomplished  is  too  lengthy  to  record  here.  Enough 
to  say  that  our  people  voted,  in  1848,  in  favor  of  levy- 
ing a  tax  of  two  mills  on  the  dollar,  to  be  levied  an- 
nually, as  long  as  required,  to  pay  off  the  balance  of 
the  debts.  This  is  claimed  to  be  the  first  instance  of 
such  action  in  history,  refuting  the  old  song, 

"  Yankee  Doodle  borrows  cash,  Yankee  Doodle  spends  it, 
And  then  he  snaps  his  fingers  at  the  jolly  flat  who  lends  it, 
Ask  him  when  he  means  to  pay,  he  shows  no  hesitation, 
But  says  he'll  take  the  shortest  way,  and  that's  repudiation." 

When  the  state  retired  from  its  internal  improve- 
ment craze,  and  left  such  matters  to  individual  en- 
terprise, it  had  but  95  miles  of  railway  to  show  for  all 
its  expenditure,  while  within  four  years  from  that 
time  2,315  miles,  built  under  the  new  order  of  things, 
were  completed. 

In  February,  1841,  the  Chicago  American  advocated 
a  railroad  between  our  city  and  Rockford,  but,  on 
account  of  the  lead  mines,  Galena  became  the  ob- 
jective point.  In  fact,  for  a  long  time  the  latter  place 
promised  to  be  more  of  a  city  than  Chicago.  To  secure 


URBAN  TRANSIT  339 

that  business,  then  finding  its  way  down  the  Missis- 
sippi river,  the  Galena  &  Chicago  Union  Railroad 
was  organized,  but,  owing  to  the  great  financial  de- 
pression, nothing  was  done  for  years.      It  was  at 
length  surveyed,  and  on  July  10th,  1848,  George  W. 
Waite  drove  the  first  grade  stake  at  the  corner  of 
Kinzie  and  Halsted  streets,  and  J.  D.  Perkins  helped 
to  lay  the  first  strap  rail.    They  had  to  go  out  of 
town  to  do  that  kind  of  work,  as  well  as  to  shoot  game, 
for  fear  of  scaring  horses  or  hurting  some  one.    It 
would  be  all  right  as  far  out  as  Halsted  street,  and 
even  if  the  Common  Council  thought  otherwise,  Hal- 
sted being  the  city  limits,  its  jurisdiction  extended 
no  farther,  and  the  railway  people  could  put  down 
all  the  strap  rails  they  wished.    On  October  26th, 
the  first  train  of  two  cars,  drawn  by  the  Pioneer, 
ran  out  to  Sand  Ridge  (Austin),   and  my   father 
was  aboard.    There  was  no  station  at  Sand  Ridge 
until  1866,  but  conductor  Allen  would  always  let  us 
off  there,  and  stop  the  train  returning,  especially 
if  he  thought   I  had  more  game  than  our  family 
required.    In  this  same  year,  1848,  the  United  States 
granted  the  state  2,595,000  acres  of  land  along  the 
line  of  the  Illinois  Central  Railroad,  to  be  donated  to 
that  company  to  aid  in  the  construction  of  the  road. 
And  on  the  10th  of  February,  1851,  the  legislature 
gave  a  charter  to  the  company,  transferring  to  it  all 
the  land  given  by  Congress,  but  it  was  on  condition 
that  the  road  should  be  completed  by  1857  and  that 
after  it  was  finished,  7  per  cent,  of  its  gross  receipts 
should  be  paid   into   the  treasury  of   the  state.    I 


340  EARLY  CHICAGO 

believe  that  Senator  Douglas  drew  up  this  important 
agreement,  and  it  has  defied  all  attempts  to  annul  it. 

There  were  many  sharp  bargains  made  between 
the  authorities  and  the  railroads  in  those  days.  This 
company  went  so  far  as  to  threaten  to  make  Toledo 
its  terminus,  unless  it  was  given  an  entrance  along 
the  lake  shore.  Consequently,  in  1852,  the  legislature 
authorized  the  company  to  run  from  12th  street 
along  the  lake  front  to  Randolph  street,  practically 
granting  them  a  strip  500  feet  wide  for  the  entire  dis- 
tance, the  company  immediately  beginning  the  work. 
In  1855,  the  Common  Council  gave  the  company  the 
land  it  now  occupies  north  of  Randolph  street  which 
it  had  any  title  to,  the  General  Government  also 
selling  it,  for  $45,000,  the  unoccupied  portion  of  its 
Fort  Dearborn  addition. 

Since  the  erection  of  an  efficient  barrier  against 
the  lake,  the  earth  obtained  from  the  cellars  and 
basements  of  our  modern  structures,  together  with 
the  street  sweepings,  have  restored  much  of  the  lost 
territory,  the  work  still  going  on. 

The  advent  of  railways  occurred  years  after  we  had 
discarded  stepping  blocks  and  were  indulging  in  the 
luxury  of  plank  sidewalks.  But  still  we  were  not 
satisfied,  and  longed  for  some  system  of  public  con- 
veyance that  should  take  us  to  distant  parts  of  the 
rapidly  growing  city.  To  meet  this  pressing  need, 
a  line  of  omnibuses  was  established  by  S.  B.  &  M.  0. 
Walker  in  1852,  to  run  on  Randolph  street,  from 
the  corner  of  State  to  B.  C.  Welch  &  Co.'s  carriage 
factory  on  Randolph  street,  corner  of  Ann,  the  route 


URBAN  TRANSIT  341 

afterwards  being  extended  to  Lake  and  Robey. 
Shortly  after  this,  they  started  another  line  from  the 
same  point  to  the  Southern  Hotel,  corner  of  State 
and  12th  streets. 

Mr.  Frank  Parmelee  informs  me  that  he  came  to 
Chicago  in  1852,  and  that  in  the  following  year  he 
established  a  line  running  to  the  Bull's  Head  Stock 
Yards,  afterwards  running  in  opposition  to  the 
Walkers,  extending  his  State  street  line  to  Cottage 
Grove. 

But  those  early  busses  were  fearful  things  to  ride 
in  on  a  cold  winter's  night. 

I  remember  that  the  people  who  had  been  riding 
for  years  in  or  on  the  busses  talked  of  procuring 
bronze  statues  of  the  daring,  progressive  Chicago 
Triumvirate  who  conceived  the  idea  of  running 
horse  cars  in  the  city. 

Judge  Henry  Fuller,  Liberty  Bigelow  and  Frank 
Parmelee  were  eulogized  in  glowing  terms  by  Will- 
iam Bross,  Nov.  1st.  1858,  when  the  Judge  turned 
the  first  spade  of  earth,  and  the  good  Deacon,  (as 
Bross  was  affectionately  termed),  drove  the  first 
stake  at  the  initial  point  in  State  street,  corner  of 
Lake. 

My  friend,  George  A.  Park,  of  Austin,  boasted 
less  of  his  first  baby  than  he  did  of  the  fact  that  on 
February  22nd,  1859,  he  was  on  the  first  car,  with 
David  Gage  and  Liberty  Bigelow,  when  it  started 
at  Lake  street  and  ran  to  Madison,  Judge  Henry 
Fuller  being  driver  and  conductor. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

THE  EARLY  PAPERS  AND  WHAT  THEY  PRINTED 

In  1814  times  were  dull  at  the  trading  post,  and 
it  was  a  matter  of  great  rejoicing  when  the  few  list- 
less, waiting  settlers  who  could  read  were  permitted 
to  peruse  The  Intelligencer,  which  claimed  to  be  the 
first  newspaper  published  in  the  Territory  of  Illinois. 
It  was  issued  at  Kaskaskia,  then  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment. There  are  few  things  besides  cards  on  which 
one  can  kill  so  much  time  as  a  newspaper,  and  to 
have  one  published  so  near  home  was  certainly  some- 
thing for  the  public  to  rejoice  over,  even  if  it  furnished 
nothing  but  local  news,  with  which  all  were  familiar, 
and  political  dissertations  which  afforded  subjects 
for  discussion, — except  when  the  eastern  or  southern 
papers  had  been  received  at  Kaskaskia,  out  of  which 
information  from  the  states  and  abroad  could  be 
gleaned. 

In  September,  1833,  John  Calhoun  established 
here  the  Weekly  Democrat,  which  was  the  only  paper 
issued  in  this  vicinity  nearer  than  Detroit  or  Galena, 
until  June  8,  1835,  when  Thomas  0.  Davis  published 
the  Weekly  American.  Publication  of  the  Democrat 
was  suspended  from  January,  1835,  until  the  arrival 
of  our  boat  on  May  25,  with  a  supply  of  paper. 

I  had  always  understood  this  to  have  been  the 


343 


344  EARLY  CHICAGO 

case,  but  to  assure  myself  I  looked  through  the  files 
of  the  paper  in  the  Chicago  Historical  Society.  As 
they  were  incomplete,  however,  I  addressed  a  note 
to  Hon.  Moses  J.  Wentworth,  inquiring  where  a  com- 
plete file  might  be  found,  and  received  the  following 
communication: 

"Chicago,  111.,  March  11, 1902. 
Mr.  E.  0.  Gale. 

Dear  Sir :  The  original  file  of  the  Chicago  Democrat, 
owned  by  my  uncle,  John  Wentworth,  was  consumed 
in  the  great  fire  of  1871.  After  that  fire  he  searched 
the  country  for  copies  and  got  together  nearly  a  com- 
plete file.  This  last  file,  after  his  death,  I  gave  to 
the  Chicago  Historical  Society.  They  were  the 
papers  you  examined.  I  have  nothing  now  in  my 
possession  enabling  me  to  answer  your  question. 
Very  truly  yours, 

Moses  J.  Wentworth." 

In  view  of  the  fact  that  not  a  single  paper  is  on 
file  between  Christmas  time  in  1834  and  the  arrival 
of  our  brig,  a  period  of  five  months,  I  feel  confirmed 
in  my  impression  above  given. 

At  another  time  its  publication  was  interrupted 
two  weeks  from  a  like  cause,  until  a  consignment 
might  be  received  from  St.  Louis. 

Mr.  Calhoun's  health  failing  him  he  wished  to  retire. 
Hearing  which  the  American  resolved  that  other 
people  should  know  it  and  gave  its  competitor  the 
benefit  of  the  following  announcement  in  its  issue 
of  July  30,  1836:  "The  Democrat  of  this  town  is 
offered  for  sale.  It  has  been  on  the  market  several 


THE  EARLY  PAPERS  345 

weeks,  but  has  found  no  man  courageous  enough  to 
purchase  it." 

But  Long  John  Wentworth,  who  arrived  in  the  fall, 
induced  some  friends  to  help  him  financially,  and  by 
inking  the  rollers,  folding  and  distributing  the 
papers  to  its  town  subscribers,  directing  and  car- 
rying to  the  Post  Office  those  for  outside  patrons, 
besides  writing  long  Democratic  editorials  on  "Lib- 
erty and  Economy"  and  furnishing  all  "copy" 
required  soon  enabled  him  to  gain  full  control 
of  the  paper,  which  became  and  for  many  years  re- 
mained the  leading  Democratic  organ  in  this  section. 
Often  unjust  to  those  of  a  different  political  faith, 
cruel  to  men  he  did  not  fear,  vindicative  where  the 
justice  of  another's  cause  won  for  him  success,  the 
giant  ruled  his  party;  and  oft  times  used  his  power  to 
curse  the  enemies  of  his  own  creation  and  to  carry 
out  some  selfish  aim.  It  was  in  the  office  of  the 
Democrat,  with  its  primitive  printing  appliances,  that 
in  the  summer  of  1838,  Long  John  and  the  Little  Giant, 
then  but  a  stripling,  worked  off  a  lot  of  circulars  an- 
nouncing Stephen  A.  Douglas  as  a  candidate  for  Rep- 
resentative in  Congress.  While  engaged  on  this  job, 
the  printer's  ink  gave  out,  and  a  boy  was  despatched 
to  Michigan  City  to  buy,  beg,  borrow  or  steal  another 
bucket. 

February  14th,  1840,  the  Democrat  became  a 
daily,  forced  to  it  by  the  action  of  its  Whig  com- 
petitor. 

March  25,  1836,  the  founder  and  proprietor  of  the 
Weekly  American,  Thomas  0.  Davis,  in  a  prospectus, 


346  EARLY  CHICAGO 

states,  "The  reasons  that  induced  me  about  a  year 
since  to  establish  my  weekly  paper,  operate  with  re- 
newed and  increasing  force  in  favor  of  my  present 
design  in  establishing  a  semi-weekly  paper  under  the 
old  title." 

In  April,  1839,  under  William  Stuart,  it  became 
the  Daily  American,  and  on  October  4,  1842,  the 
Daily  Express,  under  W.  W.  Brackett,  succeeded  it. 
Two  years  afterwards  Richard  L.  Wilson  purchased 
the  paper  for  $1,500  and  issued  it  as  the  Chicago  Daily 
Journal.  Charles  L.  Wilson  followed  his  gifted 
brother  and  became  proprietor  of  the  Chicago 
Evening  Journal.  It  was  in  1852  that  I  commenced 
taking  the  Journal  for  the  sake  of  the  articles  by  the 
literary  editor,  Benjamin  F.  Taylor,  who  for  so 
many  years  enriched  it  with  the  products  of  his 
gifted  pen;  as  did  also  the  high  minded  editor,  Gov- 
ernor Andrew  Shuman,  whose  taste,  talent  and 
ability  conspired  to  make  the  Journal  one  of  the 
cleanest,  newsiest  and  most  reliable  family  papers 
published  in  the  country.  Mr.  Shuman,  long  its 
editor-in-chief,  was  a  clear  reasoner,  with  a  remarkable 
conciseness  of  statement,  an  energetic  advocate  of 
whatever  was  pure  and  upright,  and  a  power  for  good 
throughout  his  long  term  of  honorable  service.  His 
failing  health  compelled  him  to  relinquish  the  work 
he  had  so  successfully  and  usefully  engaged  in  for 
thirty  years. 

As  we  had  been  warm  friends,  and  I  had  frequently 
contributed  to  the  Journal  at  his  request,  upon  his 
retirement,  I  addressed  to  him  a  few  lines  of  sympathy 


THE  EARLY  PAPERS  347 

and  good  cheer,  to  which  I  received  the  following 
appreciative  reply: 

"Editorial  rooms  of  the  Chicago  Evening  Journal. 

Chicago,  Jan.  19,  1889. 
Mr.  E.  0.  Gale: 

My  good  old  friend:  Please  accept  my  hearty  thanks 
for  your  letter  of  regret  and  sympathy  on  the  oc- 
casion of  my  withdrawal  from  .the  editorship  of  the 
Journal.  I  warmly  appreciate  the  spirit  and  senti- 
ment of  your  expression,  and  shall  ever  be  gratefully 
mindful  thereof.  Even  to  a  man  in  poor  health,  it 
is  a  happy  thing  to  know  that  he  has  true  friends, 
who  sympathize  with  his  griefs  and  rejoice  in  his 
happiness. 

Your  friend  evermore, 

ANDREW  SHUMAN." 

About  a  week  before  the  good  man  passed  to  rest, 
he  called  to  see  me,  and  urged  the  publication  of  my 
poems,  which  I  promised  should  be  done  some  day — 
that  consoling,  hopeful,  indefinite  "some  day."  I 
little  thought  that  meeting  was  to  be  our  last. 

In  1844,  Joseph  K.  C.  Forrest,  who  had  reached  here 
from  the  Emerald  Isle  in  1840,  assisted  Wm.  H.  Bush- 
nell  on  Chicago's  first  successful  literary  weekly, 
The  Gem  of  the  Prairie,  which  was  merged  into  the 
Tribune — established  as  a  weekly  in  1840 — as  was 
also,  eventually,  the  Democrat.  At  the  time  of  his 
death,  Mr.  Forrest  was  believed  to  be  about  the  oldest 
newspaper  writer  in  the  country,  and  longest  in  con- 
tinuous service.  He  was  a  valuable  assistant  to 
John  Wentworth,  with  whom  he  was  for  many  years. 
After  the  merging  of  the  Democrat  with  the  Tribune, 


348  EARLY  CHICAGO 

he  continued  in  his  chosen  profession,  with  other 
work,  furnishing  many  interesting  papers  on  early 
Chicago,  under  the  nom  de  plume  of  "Old  Timer." 

While  father  was  in  the  market  business,  he  used 
to  have  his  ice  from  the  river,  and  stored  it  in  a  house 
erected  for  that  purpose  on  the  Randolph  street  lot. 
This  ice  house  was  made  over  into  a  printing  office 
for  the  Better  Covenant,  edited  by  Rev.  "William  E. 
Rounesville.  How  delightfully  comforting  it  was  to 
me  after  having  had  my  youthful  mind  heated  by  my 
solicitous  Sunday  School  teacher,  Miss  King,  in  the 
fiery  furnace  of  John  Calvin  and  Jonathan  Edwards, 
to  obtain  religious  reading  from  an  ice  house.  No 
wonder  I  used  to  enjoy  rolling  up  my  sleeves  and 
helping  the  other  little  printer's  devil  to  set  type  in 
order  to  demolish  the  monstrous  idea  that  I  was 
totally  depraved,  incapable  of  good  word,  thought  or 
deed.  The  satisfaction  I  derived  in  seeing  ortho- 
doxy annihilated  by  the  type  I  set  was  all  the  com- 
pensation I  would  accept. 

When  our  town  was  young,  cartoons  were  very  un- 
common, but  I  remember  two  that  appeared  in  the 
Whig  paper,  and  I  wonder  how  many  others  can  re- 
call them.  One  was  after  a  Whig  victory,  repre- 
senting Long  John's  head  perched  on  the  exaggerated 
neck  of  a  giraffe,  saying,  "I  am  pretty  tall,  can  over- 
look almost  anything,  but  I  cannot  overlook  this  dis- 
aster to  our  cause."  The  other  was  in  1842,  when 
W.  W.  Brackett  was  its  editor,  and  it  being  then  the 
Daily  Express.  I  was  ten  years  of  age  at  the  time. 
While  standing  in  the  door  way  of  father's  market,  I 


THE  EARLY  PAPERS  349 

saw  a  short,  thick  set  man,  with  sandy  hair — I  think 
he  was  a  lawyer  by  the  name  of  Ryan — running  with 
a  heavy  whip  in  his  hand,  after  the  editor,  who  had 
published  something  to  which  he  had  taken  exception. 
He  came  up  to  him  in  front  of  the  City  Hotel,  near  the 
corner  of  Randolph  street.  He  could  use  his  whip 
but  once,  before  he  was  tackled  by  Brackett,  and  was 
soon  at  the  mercy  of  the  editor,  being  thrown  and 
straddled  by  his  anticipated  victim,  who  did  not 
strike  him,  however.  The  cartoon  represented  the 
Express  proprietor  as  holding  the  disconsolate  lawyer 
in  that  humiliating  position,  amid  the  jeers  of  the 
fast  gathering  crowd,  and  saying,  "Only  apologize 
and  I  will  let  you  up." 

There  were  many  things  in  our  local  papers  60 
years  ago  that  seem  strange  reading  to-day: 

MARRIED. 

"On Thursday  evening  last  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mitchell. 
James  A.  Marshall  to  Miss  Andelucia  Shattuck,  all  of 
Chicago.  (From  the  above  parties  we  acknowledge 
the  receipt  of  a  slice  of  excellent  cake).  American, 
Sept.  3,  1836." 

It  was  no  wonder  if  editors  became  dyspeptic  when 
they  took  pay  for  all  wedding  notices  in  cake.  We 
infer  they  were  thankful  to  receive  almost  anything, 
for  we  read  in  the  same  paper,  Dec.  7,  1840: 

"Now  is  the  time  to  bring  wood  into  the  city,  the 
sleighing  is  good,  and  wood  will  burn  in  cold  weather. 
We  will  take  it  for  subscriptions,  old  or  new." 

As  late  as  February  27,  1841,  there  was  continued 
in  the  Weekly  and  Daily: 


350  EARLY  CHICAGO 

WOOD   AND   PRODUCE   WANTED. 

"If  any  of  our  subscribers  have  promised  us  wood 
or  edibles  for  this  paper,  or  wish  to  pay  us  in  such, 
we  want  them  now  or  not  at  all,  as  we  are  making 
arrangements  for  the  winter." 

The  editorials  were  frequently  written  by  men  of 
ability  in  other  walks  of  life,  and  even  at  this  late 
date  they  are  good  reading,  though  many  show  strong 
party  feeling.  Here  is  a  long  article  upon  the  U.  S. 
Bank  by  a  prominent  Whig,  who  attributes  the  prevail- 
ing hard  times  to  Old  Hickory.  It  seems  like  ancient 
history  to  read  such  items,  as  Benton's  Expunging 
Resolution,  a  column  on  the  Public  Deposits,  followed 
by  such  news  items  as 

FLORIDA. 

"We  have  no  further  accounts  of  fighting  from 
Florida.  Letters  from  Indian  Key  represent  that 
place,  as  well  as  Key  West,  as  being  much  exposed 
and  wholly  without  means  of  defense." 

THE   INDIANS. 

"From  a  report  made  to  Congress,  it  appears  that 
the  number  of  Indians  removed  or  emigrated  from 
the  east  to  the  west  side  of  the  Mississippi  is  31,348; 
the  number  yet  to  be  removed  is  estimated  at  72,000. 
The  number  of  Indians  of  the  indigenous  tribes  being 
estimated  at  150,000,  it  is  calculated  that  the  total 
number  of  Indians  between  the  frontier  settlements 
of  the  whites  and  the  Rocky  Mountains,  after  emigra- 
tion is  completed,  will  exceed  250,000  constituting  a 
formidable  aggregate  force,  if  any  occasion  should 
unite  in  a  common  cause  so  many  tribes." 


THE  EARLY  PAPERS  351 

"Davy  Crockett  not  dead. — We  are  happy  to  state, 
on  authority  of  a  letter  from  Tennessee,  that  the  re- 
port of  the  death  of  the  eccentric  David  Crockett,  is 
not  true,  'He  started'  (says  the  letter)  'on  a  hunting 
expedition  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  dropped 
down  into  Texas';  but  we  expect  him  home  in  the 
early  spring." 

"We  learn  that  the  steamer,  Lady  Madison,  arrived 
at  Ottawa  on  Saturday  evening  last  from  Brownsville, 
Perm.,  with  emigrants." 

A  FISH  STORY. 

"Some  persons  fishing  on  the  North  Branch  on  Tues- 
day last,  caught,  among  other  fish,  a  gun — which  ap- 
peared to  have  been  lost  there  many  years  since.  The 
barrel  was  much  corroded,  and  the  stock  (black  wal- 
nut) nearly  gone.  The  brass  mountings  were  merely 
covered  with  a  thin  scale,  which  readily  came  off, 
leaving  the  ornament  as  bright,  as  though  it  had  been 
in  constant  use." 

The  old  fight  against  the  men  in  power  was  as  rife 
in  the  '30s  and  '40s  as  at  the  present  time.  Some  think 
that  spiritual  conversions  are  often  instantaneous; 
that  a  bad  man  may  become  a  good  one  in  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye.  The  instantaneousness  and  com- 
pleteness of  that  supposed  change  are  only  equaled  in 
politics.  A  man  esteemed  by  everyone  for  his  good 
qualities,  sound  judgment  and  unswerving  fidelity,  no 
sooner  awakens  to  the  fact  that  it  is  the  duty  of  every 
citizen  to  take  an  interest  in  municipal  affairs  or  state- 
craft, or  is  cajoled  into  accepting  an  office,  than  his 
whole  being  undergoes  a  complete  change,  if  we  are  to 
accept  as  true  the  surprising  charges  of  his  political 


352  EARLY  CHICAGO 

opponents.    The  Whigs  and  Loco  Focos  then  were  as 
the  Democrats  and  Republicans  of  to-day. 
I  quote  from  the  American  of  February  26,  1841 : 

CITY  EXPENSES  UNDER  LOCO  FOCO  ADMINISTRATION. 

"  Read  and  compare.  Last  year  when  the  Whigs  had 
the  power  in  the  city,  the  actual  expenses  of  the  city 
were  $6,582.80,  and  at  the  end  of  their  year  the  ex- 
cess of  receipts  over  expenditures  was  $2,076.20.  This 
year  under  the  "Reform"  administration  of  the  Loco 
Focos,  who  promised  to  conduct  the  affairs  of  the  city 
so  economically,  what  are  their  expenses?  $7,494.44 — 
about  a  thousand  dollars  more  than  last  year,  under 
the  extravagant  administration  of  the  Whigs.  And 
what  have  they  done  with  this  large  sum  of  money? 
Let  the  city  answer.  The  same  old  debts  remain 
and  new  liabilities  have  been  created  until  the  city  is 
almost  wholly  insolvent." 

Add  to  this  enormous  debt  (about  what  600  barrels 
of  flour,  or  350  barrels  of  pork  would  then  cost)  the 
county  indebtedness  of  $30,562.30  and  it  would  seem 
as  if  settlers  would  shun  us.  Besides  we  were  paying 
8  to  10  per  cent,  interest  on  our  debts,  while  the  rev- 
enue of  Cook  county  for  the  year  ending  September  1, 
1841,  was  a  little  over  $12,000,  made  up  of  the  follow- 
ing items: 

County  Taxes $9,777. 18 

Grocery  and  Tavern  licenses 425. 00 

Fines,  etc 1,384. 31 

Jury  and  Docket  fees 299. 78 

All  other  sources  .  .  320. 92 


$12,207. 19 

Still  the  city  and  county  managed  to  pull  through, 


THE  EARLY  PAPERS  353 

when  in  the  eyes  of  our  good  Whig  fathers  both  were 
"almost  insolvent,"  although  that  aggregate  sum 
would  not  pay  to-day  for  much  of  a  town  lot.  Put 
$38,056.74  in  your  pocket  some  morning  and  go  down 
town  and  see  how  far  south  on  State  street  you 
would  be  compelled  to  travel  to  get  a  building  site 
with  it.  I  think  it  would  be  much  farther  than  I  used 
to  go  to  find  "  Old  Suke, "  when  lost  among  the  rosin- 
weeds  and  tall  grass  in  the  neighborhood  of  Monroe 
street. 

In  1881,  ex-Postmaster-General,  Frank  Hatton, 
started  the  Chicago  Mail,  which  became  the  Evening 
Press  on  June  25,  1895.  On  November  16,  1895,  an 
agreement  was  entered  into  between  the  proprietor  of 
the  Chicago  Evening  Journal  and  the  Evening  Press 
for  the  consolidation  of  the  two  publications.  That 
arrangement  called  forth  the  following,  which  was 
published  in  the  Journal. 

THE  MAID  WHO  ALWAYS  CALLED  FOR  ME. 

Some  four  and  forty  years  ago, 

One  pleasant  afternoon, 
A  maid  tripped  down  the  dingy  stairs, 

Beside  the  "  Old  Saloon, " 
And  brought  me  B.  F.  Taylor's  thoughts, 

Expressed  in  charming  rhyme. 
And  ev'ry  week-day  afternoon 

Since  that  delightful  time, 
No  matter  what  the  season  was, 

Nor  what  the  kind  of  weather, 
The  maid  has  always  called  for  me, 

And  we've  walked  home  together. 

A  welcome  guest  has  that  maid  been, 
Informed  on  all  the  news, 


354  EARLY  CHICAGO 

She  modestly  presented  it 

With  her  well-studied  views. 
Upon  the  questions  of  the  day, 

In  this  or  foreign  land, 
She  truth  and  justice  did  espouse. 

And  for  the  right  did  stand. 
Of  crimes,  which  she  with  drooping  lids 

Would  feel  constrained  to  tell, 
With  blushing  cheek  would  briefly  state, 

Yet  never  on  them  dwell. 

She  Taylor's  tender  thoughts  would  give 

In  classic  prose  or  verse ! 
His  quaint  devices  and  conceits 

Would  joyously  rehearse. 
His  dreamy  talks  of  yesterdays, 

Of  some  long  buried  June, 
Which  burst  from  cerements,  damp  of  Time, 

Through  some  sweet  robin's  tune. 
Whose  words  delightful  diphthongs  were, 

To  join  Time's  present  lays 
With  those  sweet  songs  our  mothers  sang 

In  our  bright  childhood's  days. 

Gave  Dick's  and  Charley's  piquant  words, 

Like  Prentice's  to  throw 
A  caustic  cloud  of  ridicule 

Upon  some  party  foe. 
And  after  those  strong,  worthy  men 

Had  passed  from  human  view 
She  brought  to  me  the  noble  thoughts 

Of  that  pure  man,  and  true, 
Who  modesty  with  honor  joined, 

As  in  the  heart  of  maid, 
While  goodness,  love  and  charity 

Embalmed  what  Shuman  said. 

But  now  I  lose  my  constant  friend, 

Who  for  so  many  years 
Has  cheered  my  heart  with  welcome  words. 

For  others  claimed  my  tearsj 


THE  EARLY  PAPERS  355 

Who  answered  my  inquiring  eyes, 

Yet  never  made  me  talk, 
But  quietly  withdrew  her  speech 

If  I  alone  would  walk. 
As  I  henceforth  am  forced  to  do. 

And  much  to  my  distress, 
For  "The  cards  are  out,"  my  Journal  is 

To  wed  the  Evening  Press. 

E.  O.  GALE. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

OUR  EARLY  CHURCHES  AND  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS 

At  the  Illinois  Methodist  Conference  held  at  Jack- 
sonville, in  1832,  Jesse  Walker  was  appointed  to  the 
charge  of  the  Chicago  Mission,  to  which  post  he  im- 
mediately repaired  and  built  a  small  log  structure  at 
the  Point  on  the  west  side  of  the  North  Branch,  which 
served  the  purpose  of  a  domicile  and  a  place  of  worship. 
The  room  set  apart  for  the  latter  purpose  had  a  floor  of 
split  logs,  and  seats  made  of  the  same,  with  holes 
bored  in  the  ends  for  the  four  rough  legs,  with  a  rude 
book  case  in  the  corner.  An  aperture  was  left  in  the 
floor,  where  a  fire  could  be  built  if  the  zeal  of  the 
worshippers  was  insufficient  to  keep  them  warm; 
and  a  perfunctory  lath  chimney  in  the  centre  of  the 
roof,  by  which  the  builder  may  have  intended  the 
smoke  to  be  carried  off,  yet  one  familiar  with  Indian 
lodges,  constructed  on  the  same  plan,  is  aware  that 
such  openings  are  more  effective  in  driving  the  smoke 
down  than  in  persuading  it  to  follow  the  thoughts 
and  voices  of  the  assembly  and  lift  itself  to  heaven. 
There  were  a  few  small  windows  which  could  be 
utilized  to  let  the  smoke  escape,  but  were  of  little 
use  for  that  or  to  admit  light,  as  they  were  usually 
blocked  by  the  peering  faces  of  Indians. 

In  the  summer  of  1834  the  Methodists  built  the 

357 


358  EARLY  CHICAGO 

church  on  the  corner  of  North  Water  and  Clark 
streets,  which  has  been  mentioned  previously.  The 
prediction  made  by  "Dave"  at  that  time  proved 
true,  for  the  structure  was  floated  across  the  river  on 
scows,  and  placed  on  the  east  side  of  Clark  street, 
south  of  Washington,  after  which  it  was  twice  en- 
larged and  moved  to  the  corner  of  Dearborn  and  Mad- 
ison, where  it  was  transformed  into  dwellings.  In 
reply  to  a  letter  respecting  this  church,  W.  H.  White- 
head  writes :  "  A  copy  from  the  contract  signed  by  my 
father  to  build  the  First  Methodist  Episcopal  Church 
in  Chicago  reads  as  follows:  "  A  frame  building  26x38 
feet,  12  feet  posts,  sheeted  and  shingle  roof." 

To  which  Judge  Bradwell  adds,  "A  neat  pulpit, 
a  platform  for  table  and  chairs,  the  whole  to  be  done 
in  a  workmanlike  manner  for  $850." 

In  the  spring  of  1845  the  society  took  possession  of 
their  new  brick  edifice  on  the  southeast  corner  of 
Clark  and  Washington,  where  they  remained  up  to 
the  time  of  the  fire.  And  here  I  wish  to  correct 
Hon.  Grant  Goodrich's  statement  that  "The  Meth- 
odists paid  $3,800  for  their  corner,"  which  has  be- 
come so  valuable.  It  is  with  some  hesitation  that  I 
venture  to  take  exception  to  the  statement  of  such 
an  authority  but  I  have  long  known  that  the  Uni- 
versalists  were  granted  their  80  feet  immediately 
east  of  the  corner  by  the  Canal  Commissioners,  and  I 
always  understood  that  the  Unitarians  directly  op- 
posite them,  the  Methodists  west  of  them,  the  Pres- 
byterians on  the  corner  west  of  the  Methodists,  the 
Baptists,  where  the  Chamber  of  Commerce  is,  and  the 


OUR  EARLY  CHURCHES  359 

Episcopalians  on  the  north  side  of  Madison  west  of 
Clark,  upon  which  lots  the  several  denominations  had 
built  in  early  days,  were  all  recipients  of  the  Canal 
Commissioners'  favors.  When  it  has  been  claimed 
that  some  of  the  societies  purchased  the  lots  upon 
which  they  built,  I  presumed  it  was  meant  that  they 
had  paid  an  equity  to  some  squatter.  I  inferred  that 
the  Methodists  might  have  paid  Mr.  Tripp  some- 
thing, as  he  occupied  the  land  soon  after  his  arrival. 
But  Dr.  James  N.  Banks,  who  has  been  treasurer  of 
that  society  for  about  two  generations,  assures  me 
that  that  was  not  the  case,  as  the  deed  is  in  his  vault, 
a  gift  from  the  Canal  Commissioners,  and  it  never 
cost  a  cent.  Rev.  Henry  Whitehead  received  the  first 
license  to  preach  issued  in  Chicago;  and  his  son,  to 
whom  I  wrote,  replied :  "  Many  things  and  persons 
confirm  the  following  statement:  R.  Tripp  bought 
the  lot  on  the  S.  E.  Cor.  of  Clark  and  Washington 
streets,  in  1836.  The  M.  E.  Church  bought  part  of 
the  same,  but  never  made  payment  for  it,  because 
they  afterwards  secured  it  as  a  donation  from  the 
Canal  Co." 

I  would  state  further  that  Dr.  Banks  told  me  in 
the  summer  of  1900  that  the  Methodists  had  paid  from 
rents  of  this  property  $593,000  for  church  lots,  and 
that  he,  as  treasurer  of  the  society,  had  for  some  time 
previous  to  the  death  of  Father  Tripp  sent  him  regular 
donations,  as  his  changed  circumstances  made  it  a 
pleasant  and  loving  duty  of  the  church  to  contribute 
generously  towards  his  support. 

Of  Elder  Crews,  one  of  our  noblest  divines,  Judge 


360  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Bradwell  says:  "When  it  was  proposed  by  the  North 
Western  University  to  confer  upon  the  Elder  the  de- 
gree of  D.  D.,  that  there  were  some  objections  to 
conferring  it  because  it  was  said  it  should  be  con- 
ferred only  upon  literary  men,  and  that  Elder  Crews 
was  not  a  literary  man  although  his  services  to 
the  church  and  for  the  kingdom  of  Christ  were  ac- 
knowledged by  all.  Whereupon,  I,  then  being  a 
Trustee  of  the  Institution,  said:  'For  what  is  the 
degree  of  D.  D.  conferred?  As  I  understand  it, 
it  is  conferred  upon  persons  who  are  learned  in 
Godology,  and  I  want  to  know  who  knows  more 
about  Godology  than  Elder  Crews,  who  within  his 
saddle-bag  has  his  boiled  shirt,  Bible,  hymn-book, 
and  Methodist  Discipline  and  who  rode  across  the 
prairies  from  grove  to  grove  on  horseback,  through 
the  heat  of  summer  and  the  frosts  of  winter,  when  the 
country  was  inhabited  by  Indians,  and  civilization 
was  almost  unknown;  from  log  cabin  to  log  cabin,  he 
preached  of  Christ,  and  him  crucified,  to  the  pio- 
neers and  friendly  Indians,  being  in  danger  of  the  tom- 
ahawk and  the  scalping  knife  of  the  hostile  Indians. 
If  ever  there  was  a  man  entitled  to  this  degree,  it  is 
Elder  Crews.'" 

He  received  it,  as  all  of  us  who  knew  the  good  man 
felt  he  should. 

The  Elder  preached  from  1830  to  1850., 

The  small  Roman  Catholic  Church  finished  on  Lake 

street  in  1834,  was  removed  to  near  Wabash  avenue, 

the  southwest  corner  of  Madison,  where  Colonel  Beau- 

bien  gave  two  lots  for  church  purposes.    In  1844  the 


OUR  EARLY  CHURCHES       ,       361 

brick  church  of  St.  Mary's  was  erected  directly  on  the 
corner,  fronting  on  Wabash  avenue.  In  the  sum- 
mer of  1834,  the  Presbyterians  also  built  their  church 
on  Clark  street.  Considering  that  it  was  not  designed 
for  the  Baptists,  Meeker  should  have  placed  it  nearer 
the  future  sidewalk,  as  the  long  planks  leading  to  the 
door  could  scarcely  be  distinguished  from  the  water  in 
the  evening,  and  bewildered  Christians  were  occasion- 
ally immersed  without  the  aid  of  clergy.  It  was  not  a 
very  prepossessing  structure,  and  when  one  of  our 
citizens,  with  considerable  local  pride,  was  showing 
it  to  a  new  arrival,  he  felt  deeply  chagrined  as  his 
friend  remarked,  "I  have  often  heard  of  God's  house 
but  I  never  saw  his  barn  before." 

It  was  a  frame  building  40x60  feet,  and  being  the 
largest  audience  room  in  this  part  of  the  state, 
it  was  used  for  public  meetings,  court  house,  school 
room,  etc.  One  day  when  she  was  attending  school 
there  my  sister,  while  seated  on  a  bench  near  the  stove, 
not  hearing  the  teacher's  command  to  arise,  was 
tipped  by  him  onto  the  heater,  which  cut  a  gash  in 
her  forehead,  of  which  the  scar  always  remained.  No 
sooner  had  he  done  so  than  a  gallant  knight  errant, 
in  the  person  of  Anton  Berg,  knocked  the  wretch  down 
and  had  we  not  been  an  unusually  good  lot  of  schol- 
ars, the  pedagogue  would  have  fared  badly. 

The  first  regularly  settled  Baptist  minister  was 
Rev.  Isaac  T.  Hinton,  whose  yellow  house  on  Wells 
street  on  the  edge  of  the  timber  was  a  conspicuous 
landmark  for  many  years. 

At  the  present  day  our  Baptist  friends  can  per- 


r\ 


362  EARLY  CHICAGO 

form  all  their  sacred  rites  with  much  greater  personal 
comfort  than  in  those  pioneer  times.  The  bayou 
at  the  foot  of  State  street  was  no  Jordan,  but  Mr. 
Hinton  was  wont  to  use  it  as  did  John  the  Baptist  the 
hallowed  river  of  Judea.  The  revivals  of  this  later 
Baptist,  we  observed,  were  usually  held  when  busi- 
ness was  poor,  times  were  hard  and  our  stream  was 
frozen,  and  also  the  lake,  where  immersions  sometimes 
took  place,  a  large  hole  being  sawed  in  the  ice  for 
that  purpose.  This  slough,  near  its  mouth,  was  often 
used  in  extreme  cold  weather  on  account  of  the  par- 
tial protection  afforded  from  the  piercing  winds  by 
the  sheltering  banks. 

The  frame  church  erected  by  the  Baptists  was  OD- 
posite  the  public  square  on  LaSalle  street. 
In  the  American  of  June  19,  1835,  we  find: 
"A  CARD, — from  the  Sewing  Society  of  St.  James 
Parish,  voting  thanks  to  Wm.  B.  Ogden,  agent  for  the 
proprietors  of  the  Hunter  lot,  in  Wolcott's  Addition, 
which  was  sold  for  $295.  And  to  Bates  &  Montgom- 
ery for  their  Auction  room,"  which  was  the  largest 
in  the  place  adapted  to  a  Church  Fair  and  was  freely 
given  for  that  purpose.  This  fair,  which  was  held 
June  13th,  was  a  phenomenal  success,  and  its  proceeds 
were  largely  instrumental  in  enabling  the  society 
to  erect  the  first  brick  church  in  the  place,  a  pretty 
structure  on  the  west  side  of  Cass  street  near  Illinois. 
The  ladies  were  fortunate  in  the  time  selected  for  the 
fair,  as  it  was  in  the  midst  of  the  excitement  conse- 
quent upon  the  sale  of  the  canal  lands,  which  event 
had  been  thoroughly  advertised,  and  brought  together 


THE  ST.  JAMES  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH.    FIRST  BRICK  CHURCH  IN  THE  PLACE, 
DEDICATED  IN  1837. 


LIBRARY 
OF  THE 
UNIVEKSI1Y   Of 


OUR  EARLY  CHURCHES  363 

a  large  concourse  of  people  with  money  from  all  parts 
of  the  country.  The  enthusiastic  speculators  were 
willing  to  take  chances  in  fair  lotteries  presided  over 
by  fair  ladies,  whose  gracious  smiles  and  pleasant 
words  non-plussed  any  avaricious  person  who  had 
the  presumption  to  hang  around  a  booth  for  the 
few  dollars  that  may  be  due  to  him  in  the  way  of 
change.  Many  a  poor  bashful  fellow,  ashamed  to 
demand  his  rights,  was  thus  inveigled  into  paying 
$10  for  a  piece  of  "lovely,  perfectly  bewitching" 
fancy  work,  for  which  he  had  no  more  use  than 
a  Digger  Indian  for  a  Latin  lexicon.  But  the  brave 
ladies  of  St.  James  accomplished  their  purpose;  with 
the  hearty  good  wishes  of  all  denominations,  and 
many  men  of  no  denomination,  their  fine  church  edifice 
was  dedicated  Easter  Sunday,  1837,  the  pews  being 
sold  on  the  following  Monday. 

It  was  with  pleasure  that  many  read  in  the  American 
of  June  19,  1841,  this 

NOTICE. 

"The  First  Unitarian  Church  will  be  dedicated  to- 
morrow P.  M.  at  4.30.  The  morning  services  at  the 
Saloon  will  be  dispensed  with." 

The  first  sermon  ever  preached  here  proclaiming 
the  tenets  of  Universalism  was  by  Rev.  Wm.  Queal, 
in  Garrett's  Auction  room,  in  1836.  My  father  at 
the  time  knew  of  but  one  family  in  the  place  of  that 
persuasion  besides  his  own — that  of  S.  C.  Bennett — 
and  was  agreeably  surprised  to  see  the  room  filled 
with  an  interested  audience,  a  number  of  whom  re- 


364  EARLY  CHICAGO 

mained  after  service  to  arrange  for  occasional  preach- 
ing. Rev.  W.  W.  Dean,  as  I  remember  him,  resem- 
bled Abraham  Lincoln  more  closely  than  any  other 
person  I  ever  saw,  both  on  and  off  the  platform, 
favored  the  people  with  a  day  every  now  and  then, 
as  did  also  the  Rev.  E.  Manford,  the  editor,  and 
William  Rounesville,  who  was  a  poet  as  well  as  preach- 
er and  the  editor  of  the  Better  Covenant,  then  issued 
at  St.  Charles.  I  do  not  know  whether  President 
Lincoln  discovered  the  personal  likeness  to  himself 
in  Mr.  Dean,  but  he  appointed  him  to  a  clerkship  in 
one  of  the  departments  at  Washington,  where  the 
venerable  man  is  still  engaged,  though  he  is  believed 
to  be  about  four  score  and  ten  years  of  age. 

These  services  were  at  first  held  in  Chapman's 
building,  and  afterwards  in  the  Saloon.  I  remember 
a  little  incident  connected  with  seating  the  audience 
at  the  latter  place,  which  everyone  acquainted  with 
Dr.  Philip  Maxwell  will  appreciate.  Mr.  Bennett  was 
usher,  and  occupied  a  chair  beside  the  entrance  door 
which  was  between  the  rostrum  and  audience.  The 
Doctor,  who  was  the  largest  and  most  portly  of  our 
citizens  and  withal  a  great  wag,  entered  after  nearly 
every  seat  had  been  taken,  and  Mr.  Bennett  started 
towards  the  end  of  the  hall  in  search  of  a  vacant 
chair,  supposing  of  course  that  the  light  footed  and 
still  lighter  hearted  disciple  of  Esculapius  was  im- 
mediately behind  him.  But  the  Doctor,  taking  in  the 
situation  at  a  glance,  had  cooly  and  comfortably  taken 
possession  of  the  dignified  teacher's  chair,  much  to 
the  amusement  of  the  people  who  were  familiar  with 


OUR  EARLY  CHURCHES  365 

his  propensity  for  practical  joking.  When  the  good 
pedagogue  halted  near  a  vacant  seat  and  turned  to 
make  way  for  the  ponderous  craft  he  supposed  was 
still  in  tow,  the  approximation  to  400  Ibs.  avoirdupois 
rose  from  his  chair  and  with  one  of  his  unapproachable 
bows,  meaning  so  many  thanks  to  the  blushing  usher 
again  took  his  seat,  midst  the  suppressed  enjoyment 
of  the  house. 

In  the  winter  of  1841-'42,  the  first  Universalist 
Society  was  organized,  a  constitution  was  adopted, 
Chester  Tupper,  Abram  Gale  and  Jared  Gage  were 
elected  trustees  and  S.  C.  Bennett  clerk.  Rev.  W. 
W.  Dean  preached  that  winter  alternately  at  Joliet 
and  Chicago,  services  being  held  over  Goss'  hat  store, 
on  the  north  side  of  Lake  a  little  west  of  Dearborn. 
In  the  meantime  father  and  Mr.  Bennett  had  applied 
to  the  Canal  Commissioners  for  the  donation  of  a  lot 
for  church  purposes,  the  commissioners  having  au- 
thority to  make  such  grants;  but  not  succeeding  in 
obtaining  one,  they  went  to  the  commissioners'  office 
in  Lockport  and  selected  one.  General  Fry  met 
father  a  short  time  afterwards  by  appointment  at  the 
City  Hotel  where  he  gave  him  a  deed  to  the  80  feet  on 
Washington  joining  the  Methodists'. 

In  1842,  Rev.  Wm.  E.  Manley  officiated  a  few  tunes 
while  en  route  to  Galena,  where  there  was  a  society. 
On  his  return  from  that  place,  he  called  upon  father 
and  said  he  had  made  a  proposition  to  go  to  Galena, 
but  if  not  accepted  he  would  like  to  settle  in  Chicago. 

There  was  great  religious  excitement  in  our 
young  city  at  that  time,  and  considerable  opposition 


366  EARLY  CHICAGO 

was  shown  to  the  feeble  Unitarian  and  Universalist 
societies.  For  this  reason,  especially,  Mr.  Manley, 
who  was  a  ripe  scholar  and  a  controversialist  of 
great  power,  was  urged  to  take  charge  of  the  society 
as  soon  as  possible.  Arriving  in  March,  1843,  he  had 
a  joint  debate  with  one  of  the  militant  divines,  during 
which  there  was  a  disagreement  regarding  the  proper 
rendering  of  a  Greek  text,  when  Mr.  Manley  inquired  if 
there  was  a  good  Greek  scholar  in  the  audience.  Daniel 
McElroy,  one  of  our  leading  lawyers  and  handsomest 
member  of  the  Chicago  bar  was  present,  and  urged  by 
two  or  three  friends,  reluctantly  went  forward,  read 
the  disputed  text  and  explained  its  meaning  in  ac- 
cordance with  Mr.  Manley's  rendering.  Mother's 
forewoman  was  a  staunch  Presbyterian,  and  I  remem- 
ber her  asking  at  the  table,  whether  it  would  be  proper 
for  her  to  go  to  a  Universalist  meeting. 

Years  afterwards  my  brother-in-law,  B.  C.  Welch, 
our  earliest  carriage  maker,  who  had  always  attended 
the  Baptist  church,  heard  Elder  Knapp  make  such 
a  tirade  against  the  Universalists  that  he  thought  for 
once  he  would  venture  into  their  denominational 
fold  and  see  what  kind  of  looking  creatures  they 
might  be.  So  he  related  that  with  many  misgivings 
he  went  one  evening  and  quietly  took  a  seat  in  a 
corner  near  the  door,  and  watched  the  congregation 
assemble.  Much  to  his  surprise  he  noticed  a  number 
of  men  with  whom  he  had  sustained  delightful  busi- 
ness relations,  among  them  S.  B.  Walker,  the  livery- 
man, and  R.  K.  Swift,  his  banker,  while  the  whole 


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UNIVERSITY   OF  ILLINOIS. 


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FIRST  UNIVERSALIST  CHURCH,  ERECTED  IN  1843,  ON  WASHINGTON  STREET,  IMMEDI- 
ATELY EAST  OF  THE  METHODIST  CHURCH  BLOCK. 


OUR  EARLY  CHURCHES  367 

service  was  so  consistent  with  his  tastes  and  ideas  that 
he  never  afterwards  went  to  any  other  church. 

In  1843  the  First  church,  a  frame,  35  x  75,  was  erected 
and  dedicated  in  the  winter  of  1843-'44,  with  Mr. 
Manley  as  pastor,  who  remained  about  three  years. 
It  was  called  "the  pepper  box  church/'  not  from  hot, 
peppery  sermons,  but  from  its  peculiar  ornamentation 
in  the  way  of  a  cupola. 

The  location  proved  to  be  rather  unfortunate, 
being  so  near  our  zealous  Methodist  brethren,  that 
our  less  rampant  speakers  could  not  be  heard  when  the 
west  windows  were  open  in  summer.  There  was  one 
man,  however,  a  Cincinnati  preacher,  John  A.  Gurley, 
(who  built  the  original  Metropolitan  block  here,  a 
brother  of  our  hotel  proprietor,  Jason  Gurley)  who 
always  requested  that  the  west  windows  might  remain 
open.  Gurley  was  a  slightly  built  man,  but  when  he 
preached  the  Methodists  had  either  to  close  their 
windows  or  hear  every  word  of  a  good,  sound  Univer- 
salist  sermon.  Gurley  afterwards  represented  his 
state  in  Congress,  and  when  he  made  a  speech,  it  was 
unnecessary  for  him  to  send  his  constituents  a  copy 
of  the  Washington  Globe;  they  recognized  his  voice 
across  the  State  of  Virginia,  into  any  part  of  Ohio. 

The  little  "pepper  box  meeting  house"  not  being 
large  enough,  it  went  out  of  its  original  service  about 
1855,  eventually  going  into  the  grocery  and  market 
business  on  the  corner  of  Wabash  avenue  and  16th 
street.  The  new  stone  church  on  the  northwest 
corner  of  Van  Buren  and  Wabash  was  built  in  1855- 


368  EARLY  CHICAGO 

'56.  The  dedicatory  sermon  was  preached  by  that 
peerless  pulpit  orator,  E.  H.  Chapin,  D.  D.  Rev. 
W.  W.  King,  the  pastor,  was  a  man  of  rare  ability,  filling 
the  church  to  its  utmost  capacity,  and  in  the  evening 
it  was  necessary  to  place  chairs  in  every  aisle.  These 
chairs  were  left  in  the  large  vestibule  of  the  audience 
room  as  a  matter  of  convenience  during  the  week, 
and  some  time  after  taking  charge  of  the  society,  Dr. 
Ryder  suggested  to  the  janitor  that  they  had  better 
be  removed,  when  the  undiplomatic  assistant  inno- 
cently replied,  "I  guess  they  may  as  well  be,  your 
reverence.  We  do  not  seem  to  require  them  now, 
but  when  Brother  King  was  here  we  used  them  every 
night."  Dr.  Ryder  "  wore  well"  and  was  admired  by 
all,  irrespective  of  denominational  preferences. 

The  first  Sunday  school  in  the  place  was  held  Au- 
gust 19,  1832,  by  Mrs.  Charles  Taylor,  who,  with  her 
husband,  was  keeping  the  Wolf  Point  Tavern  at  the 
time.  The  first  class  contained  eight  persons,  mostly 
of  half-breed  children.  According  to  Judge  James 
B.  Bradwell,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  many 
items  of  interest,  "the  first  gathering  was  in  the  Fort, 
Frances  Jane  Johnson  securing  her  mother's  wash- 
bench  as  a  seat  for  the  scholars."  Frances  was  the 
daughter  of  Captain  Lathrop  Johnson,  afterwards 
proprietor  of  the  New  York  House,  and  who  arrived 
in  1832. 

Subsequently  Sabbath  school  sessions  were  held 
in  various  places,  from  the  doorless,  windowless  cabin 
of  Mark  Beaubien  on  the  reservation  to  the  upper 
part  of  Peck's  store,  or  Walker's  cabin,  or  a  room  in 


OUR  EARLY  CHURCHES  369 

the  fort.  Mrs.  Taylor's  younger  sister,  Philo  Car- 
penter and  others  joined  heartily  in  this  movement, 
which  flourished  as  it  should. 

Soon  after  the  organization  of  the  Presbyterian 
Society  they  started  a  Sunday  school.  At  first  the 
library  was  so  small  that  Joseph  Meeker — its  leading 
spirit — could  carry  it  in  his  pocket  handkerchief. 
Some  of  us  remember  those  small  religious  books  of 
early  days,  with  water-paper  covers  of  sombre  hue, 
mostly  melancholy  biographies  of  inconceivably  goody- 
goody  boys.  As  these  abnormal  children,  living  in  the 
horrid  nightmare  of  future  retribution,  invariably 
died  young,  what  poor  incentives  those  sickly  ex- 
amples offered  to  a  robust,  rollicking,  roguish  little 
rascal  full  of  animal  spirits  to  become  a  good  boy,  as 
defined  by  the  ascetic  fossils  who  perpetrated  such 
literature  to  blight  the  sunny  happiness  of  childhood. 
It  was  after  this  society  had  moved  their  church  to 
the  west  side  of  Clark  street,  south  of  Washington, 
that  I  had  my  religious  experience  as  a  Sunday  school 
scholar,  under  the  tutelage  of  the  devout,  adopted 
daughter  of  Tuthill  King,  whose  conscientious  efforts 
to  prove  to  me  every  Sabbath  my  total  depravity 
made  a  painful  impression  upon  my  sensitive  nature. 
My  frightened,  rather  than  guilty,  conscience  left  no 
doubt  in  my  mind  that  I  was  in  danger  of  the  terrible 
doom  which  threatened  the  son  of  the  good  deacon, 
who  actually  prayed  "Take  him,  0,  Lord!  shake  him 
over  hell  till  he  squeals  like  a  pig;  but,0, Lord!  do  not 
let  him  drop  in." 

As  I  looked  upon  the  fragile  form  of  my  devout 


370  EARLY  CHICAGO 

teacher,  I  feared  her  strength  might  fail  her  at  the 
critical  moment  and  I  should  be  plunged  into  eternal 
perdition.  Those  Sabbaths  became  days  of  torture 
to  me.  The  red,  swollen  eyes  and  dejected  counte- 
nance I  carried  home  every  Sunday  with  my  primer 
attracted  my  father's  attention,  and  he  permitted 
me  to  stay  at  home  and  hear  him  read  from  the  Good 
Book,  the  Psalms  of  David  and  the  lofty  teachings 
of  Christ,  which  I  thought  infinitely  sweeter,  purer 
and  holier  than  the  horrid  catechism,  which  my 
teacher  required  me  to  learn  and  believe.  I  was  glad 
when  the  Unitarian  society  and  school  started  in  the 
Saloon  building,  and  I  became  the  happy  member  of 
William  Larrabee's  class. 

I  never  think  of  Joseph  Meeker  but  I  associate 
with  him  the  good  time  the  Unitarian  and  Universalist 
Sunday  school  scholars  had  one  Fourth  of  July  on 
his  account.  It  was  the  custom  for  the  different 
schools  to  march  in  the  hot  sun  to  a  north  side  grove. 
There,  after  listening  to  a  stupid  oration,  eating  cake 
and  drinking  a  little  warm,  weak  lemonade,  we  would, 
like  a  certain  king  countermarch.  But  one  season 
poor  Meeker  was  bluer  than  ever.  This  year  he 
was  opposed  to  having  the  innocent  children,  who 
did  not  have  better  sense  than  to  select  Unitarians 
and  Universalists  for  their  parents,  join  in  his  proces- 
sion. While  those  same  children  were  in  the  ortho- 
dox Sunday  schools  it  was  all  right,  but  now  that 
these  people  had  separated,  it  was  a  different  mat- 
ter. He  was,  no  doubt,  true  to  his  convictions  when 
he  declared  that  he  "would  rather  shake  hands  with 


OUR  EARLY  CHURCHES  371 

the  devil  than  with  a  Universalist."  Being  thus 
ostracized  by  the  unco  guid,  our  people  gathered 
a  lot  of  wagons  filled  the  bottoms  with  hay,  covered 
that  and  the  sides  with  robes,  packed  them  with 
joyous  children,  stretched  over  all  a  banner  bearing 
this  legend: 

"HAVE  WE  NOT  ALL  ONE  FATHER?" 

and  accompanied  by  a  band  of  music,  delighted  par- 
ents, teachers  and  friends,  we  spent  a  charming  day 
at  Cottage  Grove.  It  so  happened  that  Captain  J.  G. 
Sanger  was  near  with  the  Chicago  Cavalry,  and  he 
escorted  us  through  the  town,  to  the  great  glee  of  the 
happy  youngsters,  who  forgave  Joe  Meeker,  but  we 
pitied  our  young  mates  who  had  not  participated  in 
our  enjoyment. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 
OUR  POSTMASTERS  AND  THEIR  OFFICES 

Our  first  Postmaster  was  J.  N.  Bailey,  appointed  by 
Old  Hickory,  March  31,  1831.  He  lived  in  the  Kinzie 
house,  where  he  also  had  the  Post  Office.  November 
2,  1832,  Jackson  also  appointed  our  genial  John  S.  C. 
Hogan.  I  think  it  but  partly  true  as  declared  by 
some  that  John  originally  "  kept  the  Post  Office  in  his 
boots  and  the  mail  in  his  hat."  They  claim  he  nailed 
the  tops  of  his  discarded  boots  and  those  of  his  able 
assistant,  John  Bates,  against  the  wall,  and  used  them 
as  the  private  boxes  for  the  most  favored  and  im- 
portant of  his  patrons.  However,  he  inaugurated 
the  special  delivery  system,  as  it  was  certainly  his 
custom  to  sort  the  half  dozen  or  so  letters  and  about 
as  many  papers,  mostly  for  the  Garrison,  and  as  soon 
as  trade  would  permit,  to  safely  deposit  the  letters 
in  his  hat  and  start  out  to  find  the  owners,  with  his 
hands  full  of  papers.  As  the  Post  Office  was  so  far 
from  the  business  and  residence  part  of  the  place, 
and  still  more  distant  from  the  fort,  and  the  mails 
were  too  irregular  to  be  anticipated,  the  advantage 
of  having  a  perambulating  Post  Office  and  an  obliging 
Postmaster  was  thoroughly  appreciated  by  the  public. 
Nor  was  the  "Postmaster  of  the  Corners"  without 
compensation,  for  he  thus  learned  the  current  news 

373 


374  EARLY  CHICAGO 

of  the  day  from  the  recipients  of  his  official  kindness, 
who  also  reciprocated  his  good  will  by  imparting  so 
much  of  the  information  contained  in  the  various 
letters  as  was  proper  to  give  the  general  public,  re- 
turning also  the  well  read  papers  previously  received, 
for  a  more  general  circulation  among  the  less  fortunate 
of  the  community.  Hogan  thus  possessed  a  great 
advantage  over  his  neighbors,  being  the  best  posted 
man  in  the  village. 

It  may  be  that  he  did  use  the  boot  tops  for  these 
papers,  but  as  the  postage  on  letters  weighing  not  over 
half  an  ounce  was  25  cents,  to  be  collected  of  the  re- 
cipient, I  do  not  think  John  S.  C.  would  be  apt  to  leave 
the  valuable  missives  in  boot  tops  for  each  person  to 
help  himself.  Not  but  that  our  people  were  as  honest 
then  as  now,  but  I  have  frequently  heard  some  of  our 
postwhile  wealthy  citizens  speak  of  how  difficult 
it  was  for  them  at  times  to  procure  the  two  bits  with 
which  to  get  their  love  letters.  In  order  to  save  the 
two  bits  extra  for  overweight,  those  letters  were  not 
only  written  on  the  thinnest  kind  of  paper,  but  often 
every  page  save  the  last  was  covered  with  fine  black 
letters,  and  then,  the  paper  being  turned  upside  down, 
the  other  side  of  the  line  would  be  utilized  with  red 
ink,  after  which  milk  would  sometimes  be  employed 
lengthwise  of  the  paper,  which  a  little  scorching 
would  bring  out.  What  skill  was  required  to  so  fold 
the  product  that  the  back  page  would  be  free  for  the 
address,  all  neatly  sealed  by  a  wafer  or  a  few  drops  of 
sealing  wax.  Envelopes  were  never  thought  of  until 
1839,  and  it  was  a  long  while  after  that  before  they 


OUR  POSTMASTERS  375 

came  into  general  use.  Sometimes  the  "chalk  and 
water,"  as  Floyd  Higgins  used  to  call  the  product  he 
and  his  competitors  sold  for  milk,  was  a  sad  deception, 
and  after  gaining  all  the  information  obtainable  from 
the  black  and  red  ink,  no  scorching  would  leave  traces 
of  the  lactic  fluid  message.  The  heavy  postage  of 
early  days  worked  a  great  hardship  upon  travelers, 
especially  the  merchants  going  east,  who,  to  oblige 
their  customers,  were  expected  to  carry  all  the  letters 
that  might  be  brought  and  spend  their  valuable  tune 
at  the  end  of  the  journey  in  delivering  them.  So 
serious  a  task  did  this  become  that  they  learned  to 
keep  reticent  about  leaving  home,  and  would  start 
without  notice.  1847  was  the  "Vear  of  Jubilee  to  the 
afflicted  merchants,  being  the  natal  year  of  the  post- 
age stamp. 

The  weekly  mail,  which  we  had  been  accustomed 
to  receive  by  horseback  from  Michigan  City,  before 
Hogan  retired,  arrived  every  other  day  in  a  four  horse 
stage,  and  left  as  often  with  the  Eastern  mail 
in  the  same  aristocratic  manner.  The  Southwestern, 
via.  Ottawa,  the  Southern  by  Danville,  and  the  West- 
ern by  Dixon's  Ferry,  were  semi-weekly,  generally 
leaving  at  4  A.  M.  That  was  pretty  early  in  the  morn- 
ing to  get  started  with  the  mail  and  sleepy  passengers, 
but  it  was  then  or  never.  Father  Dixon,  a  druggist 
and  a  fine  elderly  man  in  the  fifties  when  I  was  ac- 
quainted with  him,  put  the  stage  across  the  Rock 
river  on  his  ferry,  night  or  day.  The  Northern  by 
Green  Bay  was  due  at  8  P.  M.  on  Mondays;  our  little 
Canadian  Frenchman,  whom  we  met  at  the  Green  Tree 


376  EARLY  CHICAGO 

breakfast  table,  had  now  more  help  in  carrying  that 
Green  Bay  pouch. 
Here  is  a  notice  I  found  in  an  old  newspaper: 

"Hereafter  the  Post  Office  will  be  open  for  the  de- 
livery of  letters  on  Sundays  (when  no  mail  arrives) 
from  7  to  9  A.  M.,  from  12  to  1  P.  M.  and  from  5  to 
6:30  P.  M. 

N.  B.  Postage  for  letters  must  be  paid  when  taken, 
hereafter  no  credit  will  be  given.  Aiiy  person  calling 
for  letters  for  their  friends  will  please  bring  written 
orders  for  them,  to  prevent  mistake. 

J.    S.    C.    HOGAN,    Postmaster. 

Chicago,  Sept.  19,  1835. 

No  helping  yourself  from  old  boot  tops  in  this. 

March  3,  1837,  Hogan  was  succeeded  by  an  ap- 
pointee of  VanBuren,  Sidney  Abell,  who  held  the 
post  at  the  time  of  the  Tippecanoe  election.  Poor 
Tip  did  not  survive  his  civic  victory  long  enough  to 
appoint  a  successor  to  Abell,  but  July  10,  1841,  Wm. 
Stuart,  the  editor  of  the  American,  received  the  plum 
from  the  accidental,  Tyler.  The  business  had  out- 
grown the  cramped  quarters  in  the  Saloon  building, 
where  it  had  been  placed  by  Abell,  and  there  being  a 
new  two  story  brick  on  the  west  side  of  Clark  street, 
near  the  City  Hotel,  Stuart  occupied  it  and  found 
the  adjoining  alley  a  great  convenience  for  receiving 
and  forwarding  the  mail.  It  was  only  a  20  foot  front 
establishment,  and  we  lined  up  as  before,  waiting  for 
the  one  clerk  at  the  one  window  to  deal  out  the  mail 
to  a  string  half  a  block  long  of  hustling  business  men, 
anxious  speculators  and  expectant  young  fellows  an- 
ticipating letters  from  their  best  girls. 


OUR  POSTMASTERS  377 

Then  came  the  Democratic  reign  of  James  K. 
Polk,  who  supplanted  Win.  Stuart  by  Hart  L.  Stuart, 
April  25,  1845.  Hart  L.  was  never  a  very  promi- 
nent or  active  man.  As  a  Postmaster  he  did  not 
exert  himself  to  give  us  better  quarters.  Two  days 
less  than  four  years  after  his  assuming  his  duties, 
Richard  L.  Wilson,  the  George  D.  Prentice  of  the 
Chicago  Journal,  was  appointed  by  Rough  and 
Ready  to  the  now  lucrative  office,  giving  place  to 
George  W.  Dole,  September  25,  1850,  by  the  grace 
of  Millard  Fillmore.  Ike  Cook,  the  protege,  of 
Franklin  Pierce,  showed  us,  March  22,  1853,  how 
a  Post  Office  should  be  run,  and  he  ran  it,  too,  di- 
rectly across  the  street.  That  did  not  quite  suit 
him.  Ike  always  had  a  predilection  for  Dearborn 
street.  There  his  first  saloon  was.  There  on  the 
southeast  corner  of  Randolph  he  built  his  gorgeous 
Young  America  in  after  years,  and  he  was  deter- 
mined to  enhance  the  glory  of  Uncle  Samuel's  Post 
Office  by  getting  it  on  Dearborn  street,  which  he 
twice  did,  the  first  time  in  1855,  at  84  and  86,  giving  us 
more  room  and  two  windows,  greatly  expediting  busi- 
ness. This  was  by  all  odds  the  best  office  we  had 
ever  had.  Still  Ike  was  not  happy.  The  treatment 
his  friend,  Senator  Douglas,  received  from  his  exas- 
perated constituents  for  repealing  the  Missouri  Com- 
promise line  in  his  Nebraska  and  Kansas  bill  made 
our  little  Postmaster  quite  frantic.  The  opponents 
of  Douglas  had  a  meeting  at  South  Market  Hall,  Wed- 
nesday evening,  February  15,  1854,  and  passed  de- 
nunciatory resolutions. 


378  EARLY  CHICAGO 

On  the  Saturday  evening  following,  Cook  was 
chairman  of  a  meeting  at  the  same  place,  called  by 
the  partisans  of  the  Little  Giant.  But  Cook  realized 
that  his  friends  were  in  a  sad  minority,  and  in  his  des- 
peration he  shouted:  "When  the  Judge  gets  home 
you  fellows  will  stick  your  tails  between  your  legs 
and  sneak  out  of  sight.  By  G-d,  Squatter  Sovereignty 
is  all  right  and  bound  to  win,  for  Truth  squashed  to 
earth  will  rise  agin  and  you  can't  stop  her,  by  G-d. 
I'll  make  all  you  fellows  trot  out  on  the  prairie  for 
your  letters  by  G-d!"  He  did  so,  too.  For  the 
northwest  corner  of  Dearborn  and  Monroe  was  prac- 
tically out  on  the  prairie  at  that  time;  and  it  was  his 
influence  that  induced  the  administration  to  build  on 
the  present  site  of  the  First  National  Bank  building. 
Wm.  Price  was  appointed  Postmaster,  March  18, 
1857,  by  Buchanan.  Price  remained  about  a  year 
when  Cook  again  received  his  commission,  and  in 
1860  had  the  felicity  of  seeing  us  "fellows  trot  out  on 
the  prairie  for  our  mail."  As  a  servant  of  the  people 
he  only  enjoyed  that  pleasure  about  a  year,  for  the 
die  was  cast,  Lincoln  was  President,  and  John  L. 
Scripps,  the  pale,  haggard  looking  editor,  on  March 
28,  1860,  added  the  onerous  duties  of  Postmaster  of 
Chicago  to  the  exacting  labors  of  editing  one  of  the 
the  largest  and  most  influential  daily  papers  of  the 
northwest.  He  succeeded  in  discharging  all  of  his 
duties  for  four  years,  but  evidently  at  a  great  sacri- 
fice of  health. 

Our  former  jeweler  and  exemplary  citizen,  Sam- 
uel Hoard,  succeeded  our  hard  working  editor  on 


OUR  POSTMASTERS  379 

March  9, 1865.  Then  Andrew  Johnson  tried  his  hand 
in  making  appointments,  July  16,  1866,  awarding  the 
honor  and  emoluments  to  Col.  T.  0.  Osborn;  Novem- 
ber 16th,  following,  to  R.  A.  Gilmore,  and  on  August 
27, 1867,  to  our  old  friend,  General  Frank  T.  Sherman. 
General  Grant,  on  April  5,  1869,  appointed  Coin. 
F.  A.  Eastman,  who  saw  the  Post  Office  treated  by  the 
fire  fiend  of  October  9, 1871,  just  as  if  Uncle  Samuel 
had  no  special  privileges  which  he  was  bound  to 
respect.  But  the  Col.  deserved  great  praise  in  mak- 
ing so  successful  a  retreat  under  such  heavy  firing,  sav- 
ing every  letter  and  paper  entrusted  to  his  care,  an 
achievement  of  which  but  few  business  men  could 
boast.  Within  a  day  or  two  he  was  selling  postage 
stamps  at  the  old  price  in  Burlington  Hall  on  the 
northwest  corner  of  State  and  16th  streets,  whence 
he  removed  the  following  November  to  the  Methodist 
church,  which  then  boasted  of  the  largest  mail  con- 
gregation of  any  church  in  the  city. 

Still,  the  northwest  corner  of  Harrison  street  and 
Wabash  avenue  was  not  an  attractive  neighborhood, 
and  was  made  less  so  on  July  14, 1874,  by  the  second 
great  conflagration.  General  John  McArthur,  who 
had  been  under  fire  with  Grant  and  from  whom  he  had 
received  his  civic  commission,  December  20, 1873,  saw 
church  and  state  mingle  their  ashes  in  that  sad  catas- 
trophe, and  moved  his  headquarters  to  the  northwest 
corner  of  Halsted  and  Washington  streets  for  five 
weeks  and  a  half,  after  which,  on  August  23rd,  he 
settled  in  the  Honore  block,  on  the  northwest  corner 
of  Dearborn  and  Adams.  Frank  Palmer,  editor  of  the 


380  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Inter-Ocean,  who  had  been  appointed  February  26, 
1877,  by  the  invincible  General,  saw,  on  January  4, 
1879,  a  third  fire  assault;  and  on  the  day  of  its  occur- 
rence he  moved  what  was  saved  to  the  northeast  corner 
of  State  and  Washington  streets,  occupying  the 
basement  of  the  Singer  building.  Mr.  Palmer,  who 
was  re-appointed  by  Hayes,  January  7, 1881  and  by 
Arthur,  December  20, 1884,  held  the  office  longer  than 
any  one  else  in  Chicago,  remaining  from  February  26, 
1877,  until  S.  Corning  Judd  was  appointed  by  Cleve- 
land, May  5,  1885, — which  was  two  months  longer 
than  that  conservative,  level  headed  statesman  filled 
the  Presidential  chair.  Nor  has  our  Post  Office  ever 
had  at  its  head  a  more  efficient,  genial  and  worthy 
gentleman  than  our  public  printer,  Frank  W.  Palmer, 
who  informs  me  that  $206,000,000  passed  through 
his  hands  while  Postmaster,  and  he  only  charged  two 
cents  each  for  letters  at  that,  instead  of  two  bits  as 
under  the  accommodating  Loco  Foco,  J.  S.  C.  Hogan. 
Mr.  Palmer  moved  the  paraphernalia  of  his  office 
to  the  basement  of  the  new  Government  building, 
erected  on  the  block  bounded  by  Adams,  Jackson, 
Quincy  and  Clark  streets,  on  May  1,  1879,  where  it 
remained  until  that  relic  of  mediaeval  dungeon  arch- 
itecture threatened  to  crush  its  occupants.  Then 
another  influential  and  energetic  editor,  Washington 
Hessing,  of  the  Staats  Zeitung,  after  a  hard  battle  suc- 
ceeded, on  April  18,  1896,  in  housing  the  business 
temporarily  at  the  foot  of  Washington  street  on  the 
lake  shore.  There  it  is  now  and  there  presumably 
it  will  remain  until  the  new  structure  on  the  old  site 


OUR  POSTMASTERS  381 

is  completed.  But  it  would  require  a  prophet  to  fore- 
tell when  that  event  is  likely  to  occur.  Hessing  re- 
ceived his  appointment  from  our  weighty  President, 
November  25,  1893,  who  also  bestowed  the  same  gift 
upon  W.  C.  Newberry,  November  19,  1888;  J.  A. 
Sexton  obtaining  the  Federal  plum  from  Harrison, 
April  16,  1889,  and  C.  U.  Gordon  from  McKinley 
March  19,  1897. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

OUR  MAYORS  OF  LONG  AGO 

The  government  of  our  town  when  we  first  saw 
Chicago  was  intrusted  to  the  board  of  Town  Trustees ; 
not  a  formidable  body,  I  surmise,  inasmuch  as  two 
years  earlier,  when  the  town  was  organized  by  a  vote 
of  the  people,  12  voted  in  favor  of  it  while  only  one 
voted  against  it.  It  was  two  years  after  we  had  taken 
up  our  residence  before  the  Indian  trading  post  blos- 
somed out  into  a  City.  William  B.  Ogden  was  elected 
in  1837,  having  come  here  about  the  time  we  did  as 
the  representative  of  the  Arthur  B.  Bronson  property, 
on  the  north  side,  much  of  which  he  sold.  He  be- 
became  interested  in  real  estate  in  this  vicinity  and, 
in  1839,  erected  the  finest  residence  in  the  city.  A 
man  of  excellent  judgment,  he  invested  wisely  and 
became  quite  wealthy.  Being  public  spirited,  with 
ample  means  and  great  influence,  he  interested  him- 
self and  others  in  the  construction  and  maintenance 
of  railroads,  and  before  removing  to  New  York  City, 
was  foremost  in  every  movement  to  advance  the 
prosperity  of  this  section. 

Buckner  S.  Morris,  his  successor  in  1838,  was  a 
leading  lawyer  and  honored  judge.  He  was  followed 
by  Benjamin  W.  Raymond  in  1839,  who  served 
another  term  in  1842.  Mr.  Raymond  was  originally 

388 


384  EARLY  CHICAGO 

engaged  with  Mr.  T.  B.  Carter  in  the  dry  goods  busi- 
ness, and  later  became  largely  interested  in  the  Elgin 
Watch  Factory.  It  was  mainly  through  his  efforts 
that  State  street  is  as  wide  as  it  is,  north  of  Madison, 
and  that  the  lake  shore  east  of  Michigan  avenue,  and 
Dearborn  Park — now  occupied  by  the  public  library 
— were  secured  from  the  General  Government  at  the 
time  of  the  Fort  Dearborn  Reservation  sale. 

Our  fourth  mayor  was  a  carpenter  and  builder  by 
the  name  of  Alexander  Lloyd.  He  was  a  man  of 
more  than  ordinary  ability,  yet  one  whom  the  Wash- 
ingtonians  could  not  consistently  have  selected  as 
their  candidate  for  the  high  office  which  he  acceptably 
filled.  He  was  succeeded,  in  1841,  by  another  prom- 
inent contractor,  a  mason  this  time,  the  Hon.  Francis 
C.  Sherman,  who  was  again  elected  in  1862  and  1863. 
During  his  mayorality  the  city  charter  was  changed, 
in  1863,  extending  the  term  of  mayor  to  two  years, 
by  which  our  worthy  friend  served  three  years  con- 
tinuously, the  last  year  without  popular  election. 

In  1843,  and  again  in  1845,  Augustus  Garrett,  our 
whilom  auctioneer,  was  chosen  to  the  elevated  posi- 
tion. Retiring  from  his  early  calling,  he  amassed  a 
fortune  sufficient  to  meet  the  requirements  of  his 
family  and  to  enable  his  wife  to  erect  a  monument 
in  the  Biblical  Institute,  which  will  perpetuate  her  own 
and  her  husband's  name,  when  shall  have  been  for- 
gotten his  narrow  suggestion,  as  mayor,  that  the 
Dearborn  school,  our  first  venture  in  brick  school 
edifices,  should  be  converted  into  a  lunatic  asylum  or 


OUR  MAYORS  385 

a  warehouse,  and  that  a  smaller  building  more  in  keep- 
ing with  our  necessities  should  take  its  place. 

In  1844,  between  the  two  reigns  of  Garrett,  we  had 
another  mason  and  stone  dealer,  Alanson  S.  Sherman, 
a  pioneer  settler  and  a  very  worthy  gentleman,  who 
is  still  living  in  Waukegan.  In  1846  John  P.  Chapin — 
of  whom  I  have  previously  spoken — was  called  to 
the  mayorality,  succeeded  by  attorney  James  Curtis. 

Our  10th  mayor  was  James  H.  Woodworth,  who 
served  two  consecutive  terms,  1848  and  1849.  Mr. 
Woodworth  had  been  in  the  wholesale  dry  goods 
trade,  but  about  this  time  was  in  the  milling  business 
at  the  Hydraulic  Mill.  At  one  time  he  had  the  honor 
of  being  our  representative  in  Congress.  The  Demo- 
crats were  in  the  saddle  in  1850,  Curtis  being  again 
chosen. 

Walter  S.  Gurnee  became  his  successor  in  1851  and 
1852,  being  first  elected  upon  the  important  issue  of 
the  public  ownership  of  the  city  water  supply.  An 
excellent  business  man  and  a  good  organizer,  he 
brought  these  desirable  qualities  to  the  discharge  of 
his  public  duties  and  made  a  popular  mayor.  As 
head  of  the  wholesale  saddlery  and  leather  firm  of 
Gurnee  and  Matteson,  he  did  a  prosperous  business, 
while  as  promoter  and  principal  owner  of  the  largest 
tannery,  he  amassed  a  fortune,  ultimately  taking  in 
as  a  partner  his  former  book-keeper  and  subsequent 
millionaire,  P.  L.  Yoe.  Like  many  of  our  wealthy 
citizens,  Mr.  Gurnee  took  up  his  residence  elsewhere, 
finally  settling  in  New  York  City. 


386  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Charles  M.  Gray,  who  had  a  factory  in  early  days 
on  the  south  side  of  Randolph  between  Clark  and 
Dearborn,  where  he  manufactured  cradles  for  the 
reapers,  kindly  consented  to  be  our  12th  mayor  in  the 
year  1853,  later  being  one  of  our  prominent  railroad 
men. 

The  succeeding  year  Gray's  neighbor  of  bye-gone 
days,  a  fine  looking  blacksmith,  by  the  name  of  Isaac 
Milliken,  thought  he  would  like  to  know  how  a  genuine, 
hard  working  and  hard  muscled  descendant  of  Vul- 
can could  hold  down  the  job.  So  successful  was  he 
that  he  did  no  more  work  for  horses,  but  as  a  police 
magistrate,  after  the  mayorality,  he  found  many 
brutes  more  disagreeable  to  handle;  yet  he  was  able 
to  do  it. 

In  1855  Dr.  Levi  D.  Boone,  a  grand  nephew  of  the 
celebrated  Kentucky  Daniel,  was  our  chief  magis- 
trate. The  Doctor  was  an  uncompromising  temper- 
ance man,  whose  radical  action  brought  on  the  Lager 
Beer  riot,  of  which  I  was  a  foolish  observer.  Captain 
Hunt  of  the  Hyde  Park  police  lost  an  arm  in  the  fray. 
For  a  time  things  looked  quite  threatening;  but  R.  K. 
Swift  had  a  loaded  cannon  at  each  corner  of  the  public 
square,  to  protect,  if  absolutely  necessary,  the  jail, 
in  the  basement  of  the  large  court  house,  which  con- 
tained many  Germans,  who  had  been  arrested  for  en- 
gaging in  the  riot,  and  was  threatened  by  the  mob. 
Fortunately  better  counsels  prevailed  and  a  great 
calamity  was  averted. 

The  Doctor  had  been  with  us  many  years,  and  was 
one  of  our  leading  physicians.  As  a  matter  of  in- 


OUR  MAYORS  387 

formation  to  the  Cook  County  Medical  Society,  who 
may  be  interested  in  its  origin,  I  insert  an  article  which 
appeared  in  the  Chicago  American,  October  1,  1836: 

"IMPROVEMENT  OF  MEDICAL  SCIENCE. 
Mr.  Editor, — 

The  Physicians  of  Chicago  have  recently  constituted 
a  Society  for  the  improvement  of  the  Profession,  to 
be  known  as  the  Cook  County  Medical  Society,  and 
have  directed  me  (by  resolution)  to  give  notice  through 
your  paper  that  the  first  stated  meeting  of  the  Society 
will  be  holden  at  the  office  of  the  Chicago  Insurance 
Company  on  Monday  evening  next,  at  which  time  an 
essay  will  be  read  by  a  member  of  the  Society. 

L.  D.  BOONE,  Secretary." 

It  was  in  1856  that  another  member  of  the  firm  of 
Wadsworth,  Dyer  &  Chapin  furnished  us  with  the 
material  for  a  good  mayor.  I  always  associate  the 
name  of  Thomas  Dyer  with  a  laughable  experience 
we  had  in  our  store.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  ex- 
citement about  the  time  of  his  election,  and  one  night 
the  Democrats  had  a  grand  torch  light  procession, 
which  passed  our  drug  store.  Like  the  foolish  vir- 
gins of  sacred  history,  many  had  no  oil  with  them  and 
rushed  into  our  place  to  have  their  torches  filled  with 
burning  fluid.  One  of  our  clerks,  William  A.  Schafer, 
who  was  an  ardent  Republican,  took  the  empty  lamps 
into  the  back  room,  filled  them  with  water  and 
charging  the  Dyer  partisans  not  to  light  up  in  the 
store,  he  took  his  dime  and  was  ready  for  the  next. 
As  long  as  the  procession  was  passing  Schafer  was 
happy,  while  the  Democrat,  not  knowing  so  much 
about  torches  as  the  Wide  Awakes  did,  ran  a  block 


388  EARLY  CHICAGO 

to  get  his  proper  place  in  the  line,  and  was  surprised 
to  see  how  soon  his  torch  went  out  after  lighting. 

Young  Schafer  believing  "everything  to  be  fair 
in  politics,"  said  nothing  to  us  about  it,  easing  his  own 
conscience  on  the  following  week  when  the  Wide 
Awakes  had  their  turnout  by  properly  filling  their 
lamps  for  nothing,  saying  that  the  Democrats  had 
paid  in  advance  for  their  parade. 

The  16th  mayor  was  a  man  known  by  all,  Hon. 
John  Wentworth,  the  editor  of  the  Democrat.  He 
commenced  his  rule  in  1857.  It  is  related  that  there 
was  once  left  with  him  the  manuscript  of  a  short 
history  of  Chicago  to  be  reviewed  and  that  he  oblit- 
erated everything  but  matters  in  which  he  appeared. 
Upon  the  young  man  calling,  Wentworth  handed 
him  his  manuscript,  saying,  "Here  is  your  expur- 
gated and  correct  history  of  Chicago." 

One  term  was  not  long  enough  for  a  man  measur- 
ing 6  feet  and  7  inches,  so  after  one  year's  service 
he  began  a  second  term  in  1860,  our  people  running 
from  one  extreme  to  another,  from  Long  John  to 
Short  John — who  served  two  terms — then  back  again 
to  Long  John. 

John  C.  Haines  arrived  in  Chicago  the  day  after 
we  did,  and  on  the  16th  anniversary  of  his  birth.  Dur- 
ing a  residence  here  of  over  sixty-one  years,  he  filled 
acceptably  nearly  every  position  in  the  gift  of  his 
fellow  citizens;  not  that  he  was  a  place  seeker,  but 
he  was  an  unusually  public  spirited  man.  He,  as 
well  as  his  wife,  took  a  deep  interest  in  all  philan- 
thropic movements  which  called  for  his  purse  as 


OUR  MAYORS  388 

well  as  his  time.  Ten  years  previous  to  the  great 
fire,  Julian  S.  Rumsey,  the  forwarding  merchant 
and  grain  dealer  became  our  18th  mayor. 

The  last  reign  of  F.  C.  Sherman  was  succeeded, 
in  1865,  by  John  B.  Rice,  who  was  elected  for  two 
years  and  re-elected  in  1867.  By  the  action  of  the 
state  legislature  in  March,  1869,  the  time  of  holding 
our  elections  was  changed  from  April  to  November, 
thus  extending  his  term  seven  months.  Mr.  Rice 
was  an  actor  and  the  proprietor  of  the  first  per- 
manent and  prominent  theatre,  being  succeeded  by 
our  veteran,  J.  H.  McVickar,  one  of  his  leading 
stock  actors.  That  he  held  the  office  longer  than 
any  of  his  predecessors  was  a  just  tribute  to  one  of 
the  best  mayors  the  city  ever  had.  He  was  a  portly 
gentleman  of  commanding  presence,  a  fine  scholar, 
a  good  speaker,  whose  upright  course  won  the  con- 
fidence and  esteem  of  all.  A  man  of  good  judgment, 
rare  business  qualifications  and  a  superior  judge  of 
human  nature,  he  gathered  around  him  an  honor- 
able and  able  corps  of  assistants. 

Roswell  B.  Mason  left  the  high  position  he  occu- 
pied with  the  Illinois  Central  Railroad  in  1869  to 
become  our  20th  mayor.  It  was  well  for  us  that 
we  had  just  such  a  man  at  the  head  of  affairs  during 
the  great  fire,  one  able  to  meet  wisely  the  oppressive 
duties  and  responsibilities  devolving  upon  him. 
The  smoke  of  our  burning  homes  was  verily  a  cloud 
by  day  and  a  pillar  of  fire  by  night,  to  direct,  not 
only  the  army  of  useful  mechanics  and  laborers, 
but  likewise  the  motley  mass  of  adventurers,  thieves 


390  EARLY  CHICAGO 

and  desperadoes  of  every  kind  who  assembled  here 
for  plunder.  So  threatening  did  these  gentry 
become,  that  Mason  at  once  directed  General  Sheri- 
dan to  place  the  city  under  martial  law  during 
the  terrible  excitement,  thereby  giving  a  sense  of 
security  to  the  citizens  and  averting  riots,  pillage 
and  murder,  which,  without  this  wise  precaution 
would  have  inevitably  occurred. 

As  a  notice  of  Mr.  Mason's  successors  can  scarcely 
come  under  the  head  of  my  reminiscences,  I  will 
call  a  halt,  merely  adding  that  if  not  personally 
acquainted,  I  have  known  every  one  of  our  mayors 
by  sight. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

BEFORE  THE  WAR 

Senator  Douglas  and  his  adherents  were  unques- 
tionably convinced  in  their  own  minds  that  the 
elevation  of  Abraham  Lincoln  to  the  Presidency 
would  result  in  the  secession  of  the  slave  states, 
if  not  in  civil  war;  and  consequently  they  used 
every  honorable  means  to  prevent  his  election. 
Nevertheless  they  rallied  with  heart  and  soul  to 
the  defence  of  the  flag  and  the  integrity  of  the  federal 
union  when  the  fated  hour  came  and  the  banner 
of  stars  on  Fort  Sumter  was  assailed.  Then  they 
grandly  proved  that  they  held  patriotism  above 
party;  and  our  chief  executive  had  no  firmer  friends 
than  the  very  men  who  conscientiously  opposed 
his  election. 

Our  state  had  always  held  an  anomalous  position 
on  the  slavery  question.  Most  of  the  other  states 
were  either  decidedly  pro-slavery  or  anti-slavery. 
But  the  southern  part  of  ours  was  first  settled  and 
principally  inhabited  by  people  from  the  south, 
who  had  a  pronounced  antipathy  to  the  Yankees — 
a  universal  appellation  of  contempt  which  they 
bestowed  upon  New  Englanders  and  citizens  of 
the  eastern  states,  by  whom  the  northern  portion 
of  the  Sucker  state  was  chiefly  inhabited. 

391 


392  EARLY  CHICAGO 

The  first  code  of  our  Statute  Laws  was  principally 
made  up  from  the  Statutes  of  Virginia  and  Ken- 
tucky. A  revised  copy  was  published  in  1827,  by 
which  immigrants  were  allowed  to  bring  their  slaves 
with  them,  who,  "if  they  voluntarily  consented 
to  serve  their  masters  for  a  term  of  ten  years,  were 
then  held  to  perform  their  contract,  but  if  they 
refused  to  consent  they  might  be  removed  by  their 
masters  out  of  the  state  in  sixty  days.  Children 
of  such  slaves  were  registered  and  bound  to  serve 
their  masters  until  they  were  32  years  old." 

The  first  legislature  of  the  state  passed  as  string- 
ent laws  upon  this  subject  as  could  be  found  in  any 
slave  state;  in  fact  our  "Black  Laws,"  as  they 
were  termed,  were  a  disgrace  to  our  people  and 
state.  These  laws  met  with  the  hearty  approbation 
of  the  majority  of  the  voters  in  the  southern  portion 
of  the  Commonwealth,  while  in  the  central  and 
northern,  though  there  were  many  whose  sense  of 
justice  was  shocked  by  their  existence,  they  were 
looked  upon  by  a  goodly  number  of  the  conser- 
vatives in  both  of  the  dominant  political  parties  as 
embodying  certain  rights  of  the  slave  holder,  which 
it  was  the  duty  of  all  good  citizens  to  see  faithfully 
carried  out.  As  a  consequence  the  Abolitionists, 
who  managed  the  "Under-ground  railroad"  and 
assisted  slaves  in  escaping  from  their  servitude, 
were  looked  upon  as  traitors  to  their  country,  a 
class  of  fanatics,  who  were  willing  to  destroy  the 
world's  latest  experiment  in  self  government,  rather 


BEFORE  THE  WAR  393 

than  that  a  few  ignorant  blacks  should  be  held  in 
slavery,  the  majority  of  whom,  in  the  estimation  of 
these  patriots,  were  contented  with  their  lot.  So 
pronounced  was  this  feeling  that,  when  I  was  a  boy, 
I  heard  the  leader  of  that  party  in  Chicago,  as  fre- 
quently referred  to  as  "Nigger  Dyer"  as  Dr.  Dyer. 
To  illustrate  public  sentiment  on  the  subject,  I 
reproduce  a  specimen  of  the  advertisements  which 
our  papers  used  to  contain;  this  one  having  appeared 
in  the  Chicago  American  of  Oct.  25,  1841: 

RUNAWAY. 

"From  subscriber  at  Burmingham,  Mo.  A  negro 
man,  named  Philip,  about  35  years  of  age,  5  feet 
10  inches  in  height,  light  black  color,  or  described 
by  some  as  chestnut  color,  high  forehead  and  bald. 
There  is  a  white  spot  in  or  near  the  pupil  of  his  left 
eye,  and  a  scar  on  the  hinder  side  of  his  left  arm, 
ranging  from  the  arm  pit  to  the  elbow,  and  his  three 
last  fingers  of  the  left  hand  fixed  half  bent  turned 
inward  from  the  effect  of  the  wound. 

"I  will  pay  as  a  reward  $150  to  any  person  who 
may  apprehend  and  deliver  him  to  J.  H.  Needer 
at  his  residence  on  the  bank  of  the  Mississippi  river, 
Cape  Gardeau  County,  or  $50  if  he  is  secured  and 
confined  in  jail,  so  that  I  can  get  him. 

JAMES  H.  NEEDER." 

To  anyone  making  a  study  of  the  above,  comment 
is  unnecessary.  The  runaway  evidently  had  white 
blood  in  his  veins,  while  his  scars  and  deformities 
witness  to  the  desperate  fights  he  had  at  some  time 
made  for  his  freedom.  I  recall  a  number  of  wild 


394  EARLY  CHICAGO 

scenes,  some  of  which  were  attended  with  bloodshed, 
as  large,  excited  crowds  gathered  and  rushed  through 
the  streets  to  save  or  capture  a  runaway.  As  a  rule 
the  masses  were  in  sympathy  with  the  slave,  and 
when  called  upon  to  aid  the  officers  of  the  law  in 
effecting  the  capture  of  a  runaway,  they  did  so 
in  a  manner  which  left  no  doubt  as  to  the  quarter 
where  their  sympathies  lay. 

Every  year  the  number  of  determined  friends  of 
the  slaves  increased  in  our  midst,  until  finally  it 
was  seldom  that  one  was  recaptured. 

I  am  indebted  to  my  fellow  voyager  of  1835,  in 
the  brig,  Illinois — Fernando  Jones — for  a  statement  of 
the  following  ruse  that  secured  freedom  to  one  of 
them.  "Shortly  after  the  passage  of  the  Fugitive 
Slave  Law  a  southerner  came  into  the  town  in  search 
of  a  runaway  slave  and  put  up  at  the  Mansion  House. 
While  he  was  there  the  negro  was  captured,  and  as 
the  law  would  have  it,  held  by  the  constable,  subject 
to  his  owner's  control.  The  southerner,  in  fact,  had 
arranged  to  take  him  off  on  a  certain  morning.  Mean- 
while the  case  had  got  noised  about  and  there  was 
quite  a  little  breeze  of  excitement  among  the  citizens 
of  abolitionist  tendencies.  Prominent  among  these 
was  Dr.  Charles  V.  Dyer,  a  Vermonter  and  a  very 
popular  gentleman,  who  was  at  that  time  an  officer 
of  the  celebrated  under-ground  railroad  and  had 
helped  in  the  rescue  of  hundreds  of  unfortunate  ne- 
groes who  sought  to  escape  from  slavery.  The  doctor 
arranged  his  plans  with  a  number  of  congenial  citizens, 


BEFORE  THE  WAR  395 

and  on  the  morning  when  the  slave  was  to  be  taken 
away  they  entered  the  Mansion  House  in  imposing 
force.  They  were  all  ostensibly  armed  as  well  as 
deliberate  and  resolute  looking.  The  southerner  had 
not  yet  left  his  apartment.  Crowding  up  the  stair- 
way they  formed  in  front  of  the  room  and  the  Doc- 
tor knocked. 

"What — what  is  it,  gentlemen?"  stammered  the 
terrified  guest  as  he  opened  the  door  and  looked  out 
on  the  group  of  stalwart  Chicagoans. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  sir.  Are  you  Mr.  ,  the 

owner  of  the  nigger  down  there?"  were  the  re-assur- 
ing words  of  the  bland  abolitionist. 

"Why,  yes,  gentlemen — that  is — I — I" 

"Oh,  don't  be  frightened,  Mr. ;  we  are  merely 

sent  here  to  protect  you,  to  save  your  life  from  the 
enraged  mob.  The  excitement  about  that  slave  has 
grown  fiercely  during  the  night;  there  were  some 
threats  heard  among  the  crowd  and  we  have  been 
sent  here,  a  special  posse,  to  protect  your  life  and  up- 
hold the  dignity  of  the  law.  Don't  you  be  worried  a 
bit,  sir!  We  shall  keep  guard  down  stairs  and  protect 
your  life  if  the  crowd  comes  in  hundreds."  After 
imparting  this  comfort  the  Doctor  marshaled  his 
friends  down  the  stairway  with  much  ceremony. 
But  the  ruse  had  accomplished  its  intended  effect. 
The  really  frightened  slave  owner  went  out  by  the 
back  door,  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  off  without 
the  negro.  It  was  claimed  by  the  Mansion  House 
folks  that  he  forgot  even  to  pay  his  bill.  On  an  early 


396  EARLY  CHICAGO 

day  thereafter  the  abolitionists  of  Chicago  presented 
Dr.  Dyer  with  an  elegant  gold-tipped  cane  in  com- 
memoration of  the  event. 

I  distinctly  remember  the  gold-headed  cane  of  the 
Dr.'s,  of  which  he  was  justly  proud. 

Lincoln  and  Douglas  were  the  two  great  men  of 
our  state,  who  played  so  important  a  part  in  the  his- 
tory of  those  exciting  times. 

The  feeling  produced  throughout  the  country  by 
the  Nebraska  and  Kansas  Bill  of  our  able  senator 
cannot  be  fully  comprehended  by  the  present  genera- 
tion. The  paramount  desire  to  maintain  the  integ- 
rity of  the  Union,  which  many  sterling  patriots  of  the 
north  believed  could  be  assured  only  by  compromis- 
ing with  the  slave  power,  caused  a  large  conservative 
class  to  acquiesce  in  almost  any  legislative  action 
that  would  secure  that  all  important  result.  But  the 
proposition  of  our  senator  to  permit  slavery  to  enter 
territory  north  of  the  Mason  and  Dixon  line,  once  con- 
secrated to  freedom,  should  a  majority  of  the  voters 
so  elect,  rilled  the  north  with  vehement  protest.  In 
our  city  a  series  of  public  meetings  were  held  both  by 
friends  and  opponents  of  the  measure,  all  of  which  I 
believe  I  attended.  It  was  then  that  I  heard  E.  C. 
Larned  make  his  unanswerable  arguments  against 
the  sophistries  of  Douglas.  Larned  was  one  of  those 
lean  men  Caesar  so  much  feared.  He  certainly 
was  a  profound  thinker  and  convincing  speaker.  In 
that  old  South  Market  hall  I  heard  S.  S.  Hayes  for 
the  first  time,  and  he  made  a  most  excellent  speech, 
probably  as  good  a  one  as  could  be  made  on  that  side 


BEFORE  THE  WAR  397 

of  the  question;  cool,  clear,  dispassionate,  logical.  I 
was  charmed  with  the  manner  and  ability  of  the  slight, 
pale-faced,  young-appearing  man,  who  so  bravely 
stood  up  in  the  advocacy  of  an  unpopular  cause. 

I  usually  heard  our  able  senator  when  he  spoke  in 
Chicago  if  it  was  possible  for  me  to  do  so,  as  I  enjoyed 
his  strong  argumentative  style  and  sledge  hammer 
oratory,  even  if  I  could  not  always  agree  with  his 
reasoning.  In  one  respect  there  was  a  great  contrast 
between  him  and  Lincoln.  Any  one  reading  their 
joint  debates  throughout  the  state  cannot  but  notice 
that.  Douglas  was  hardly  fair  in  stating  the  position 
of  his  adversary  or  in  quoting  his  speeches,  while 
Lincoln  either  quoted  verbatim  or  gave  a  correct 
report  of  his  arguments.  This  was  a  marked  trait 
of  his  style,  and  I  believe  it  had  much  to  do  in  secur- 
ing for  him  the  talismanic  title  of  "Honest  Old  Abe." 

At  the  Freeport  rally,  Frank  and  Jule  Lumbard, 
Jirah  Cole  and  my  brother-in-law,  Charley  Seaverns, 
sang,  and,  of  course,  "Old  Shady"  was  called  for. 
Frank  being  pretty  hoarse  asked  the  boys  if  any  of 
them  could  sing  it.  Charley  volunteered,  and  Frank 
made  his  apology,  introducing  Chicago's  favorite 
tenor. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  Frank  had  a  colored  boy 
as  valet,  body-guard,  or  clown,  I  know  not  which, 
whom  he  had  brought  from  the  south.  This  coon 
was  a  character,  and  he  had  "  Old  Shady, "  as  it  grew 
in  the  cabins,  and  on  the  plantations;  so  I  used  to 
get  Sam  in  the  back  room  to  sing  "Old  Shady"  for 
me.  Learning  it  of  him  I  taught  it  to  Charley  Seav- 


398  EARLY  CHICAGO 

eras,  who  sang  it  at  Freeport  with  the  true  Sambo 
rendering.  Frank  and  the  rest  of  the  boys  laughed 
so  that  they  could  hardly  join  in  the  refrain,  being 
intensely  tickled,  as  was  the  crowd. 

During  the  war  the  Lumbard  brothers  did  more  for 
their  country  than  if  they  had  carried  muskets  or 
worn  shoulder  straps,  by  singing  patriotic  pieces  to 
the  soldiers  all  along  the  front. 

If  my  recollection  serves  me  correctly,  it  was  at 
Baltimore,  in  one  of  the  critical  hours  of  the  conflict 
when  excitement  was  running  high  in  that  southern 
city,  and  the  friends  of  the  Union  and  of  the  Con- 
federacy were  ready  to  back  their  sentiments  with 
their  arms,  that  a  fierce,  surging  crowd,  maddened  to 
desperation,  was  shouting  and  quarreling  in  front  of 
the  hotel  where  Frank  was  stopping,  when  suddenly 
from  an  upper  window  there  rang  out  on  the  midnight 
air  the  magnificent  voice  of  Frank  Lumbard,  as  with 
flag  in  hand,  he  sang  with  a  chant  the  "  Star  Spangled 
Banner."  The  effect  was  miraculous.  Those  mad- 
dened men  from  the  northland  and  the  southland, 
who  from  infancy  were  taught  to  venerate  that  natal 
song,  touched  by  the  inspiration  of  the  grand  singer, 
as  his  soul  found  expression  in  his  stirring  anthem, 
soon  forgot  their  animosities,  in  the  magnetic  power 
of  that  voice,  took  up  the  thrilling  story,  and  sang 
it  till  at  last  they  drowned  it  in  wild  hurrahs. 

As  I  used  to  enjoy  hearing  such  Democrats  as 
Cass,  Hayes  and  Douglas,  I  was  still  more  charmed 
with  Lincoln,  and  in  the  good  old  Whig  days  was  al- 
ways present  when  he  spoke  in  our  city.  No  one  can 


BEFORE  THE  WAR  399 

account  for  his  influence  over  an  audience,  whether 
of  high  or  low  estate,  ignorant  or  cultured,  unless  it 
might  be  attributed  to  his  evident  sincerity, 
which  commanded  the  respect  of  his  hearers, 
while  his  incontrovertable  logic  wrought  con- 
victions. I  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  every 
word  of  his  great  speech  from  the  Tremont  House 
balcony,  which  was  the  most  powerful  I  ever 
heard  him  deliver,  while  its  reproduction  in  all  of 
the  Republican  papers  throughout  the  country 
aroused  the  attention  of  the  entire  party.  At  the 
same  time  I  think  his  Cooper  Institute  Address  was  his 
masterpiece  in  the  campaign,  and  the  favorable  com- 
ments it  received  had  a  wonderful  influence  in  edu- 
cating the  people  as  to  the  ability  and  statesmanship 
of  the  "Illinois  Rail  Splitter." 

A  few  days  after  making  his  Cooper  Institute 
Speech,  an  eminent  lawyer  of  New  York  City  was  in 
the  store  and  asked  me  if  "that  man  Lincoln  was 
fully  appreciated  in  the  west."  I  replied  that  I 
thought  he  was.  As  for  myself,  he  had  never  spoken 
in  Chicago  to  my  knowledge  within  the  past  fifteen 
years  but  what  I  had  heard  him.  He  then  said, 
"My  partner  and  I  heard  him  at  Cooper  Institute, 
and  for  a  candid  statement  of  the  great  issues  before 
the  country,  close  reasoning  and  convincing  argument 
I  never  heard  his  equal.  Seward  has  been  our  idol 
and  we  imagined  Lincoln  to  be  a  coarse,  ignorant 
man,  and  we  expected  him  to  make  a  rambling, 
wild  and  wooly  stump  speech,  but  he  had  not  spoken 
five  minutes  before  he  seemed  to  demand  and  com- 


400  EARLY  CHICAGO 

mand  the  respect  and  all  absorbing  attention  of 
every  person  in  the  vast  assembly.  At  his  close, 
coming  out,  I  took  my  partner's  arm  and  we  walked 
two  blocks  before  a  word  was  said,  when  I  asked  him 
what  he  thought  of  that  speech?  He  immediately 
stood  still,  turned  around,  put  his  hands  on  my 
shoulders  and  said  most  impressively,  "That  man 
is  the  most  remarkable  orator  that  I  ever  heard,  and 
mark  my  words,  if  William  H.  Seward  allows  him  to 
make  speeches  through  the  country  our  senator  will 
not  be  the  next  President  of  the  United  States,  but 
the  Illinois  Rail  Splitter  certainly  will  be."  In  the 
light  of  our  experience  how  like  a  prophecy  does  that 
appear. 

One  of  my  most  cherished  recollections  is  the  fact 
that  I  was  in  the  Republican  Wigwam  at  the  time 
that  our  great  Commoner  received  the  nomination, 
Friday,  May  16,  1860.  This  wigwam  was  erected 
on  the  site  of  the  old  Sauganash,  destroyed  by  fire 
in  1851,  southeast  corner  of  Market  and  Lake  streets, 
expressly  for  this  convention,  and  could  accommodate 
5,000  people.  The  general  impression  seemed  to  be 
that  the  distinguished  New  York  senator  would 
receive  the  nomination,  but  to  make  an  absolutely 
certain  thing  of  it  his  friends  thought  they  would 
make  an  effective  demonstration  and  accordingly 
planned  for  a  great  parade  before  entering  the  hall. 
But  while  they  were  thus  engaged,  Lincoln's  friends 
were  packing  the  house  with  men  of  good  lungs. 
Mine  would  carry  the  best  part  of  a  mile  and  I  had 
a  position  within  fifty  feet  of  the  platform.  When 


BEFORE  THE  WAR  401 

the  Seward  men  arrived  the  delegates  just  managed 
to  get  in  through  a  back  door  and  take  their  position 
on  the  platform,  but  their  friends  had  to  content 
themselves  with  backing  the  swaying  mass  of  Lin- 
coln's admirers,  who  could  not  enter  the  wigwam. 
Mr.  Lincoln  was  nominated  by  Leonard  Swett,  a 
Chicago  lawyer,  and  was  seconded,  I  believe,  by 
Henry  S.  Lane,  chairman  of  the  Indiana  State  Repub- 
lican Committee,  as  well  as  nominee  for  governor 
of  that  state.  On  the  first  ballot  Seward  had  173 
and  one-half  votes,  Lincoln  following  with  102. 
When  this  was  announced  men  went  wild.  Turning 
to  a  friend  I  remarked:  "If  Seward  receives  the 
nomination  for  the  Presidency,  (which looks  doubtful), 
Lincoln  can  have  the  second  place  if  he  wants  it." 
On  the  second  ballot,  Seward  had  183  and  one-half, 
a  gain  of  10,  while  Lincoln  had  187,  a  gain  of  85. 
It  looked  then  as  if  Seward  had  polled  his  full  vote, 
so  the  west  began  to  rally  enthusiastically  around 
Lincoln.  Just  as  the  third  ballot  was  about  to  be 
taken,  Norman  B.  Judd,  chairman  of  the  Illinois  Re- 
publican Committee,  entered  the  hall  with  a  large, 
crayon  likeness  of  "Honest  Old  Abe,"  while  Judge 
David  Davis  followed,  carrying  on  his  shoulder  a 
long,  moss-covered,  old  rail,  bearing  the  legend, 
"Split  by  Lincoln."  To  say  that  this  stampeded 
the  convention  would  hardly  be  a  correct  statement, 
as  the  crowd  was  too  densely  packed  to  be  stampeded. 
Only  in  one  direction  was  there  any  vacant  space, 
that  was  upward;  in  that  direction  shouts  and 
handkerchiefs,  hats  and  umbrellas  went  so  high  that 


402  EARLY  CHICAGO 

their  owners  never  saw  nor  heard  of  them  again. 
Men  were  beside  themselves.  Old,  grizzly-bearded 
fellows  acted  like  boys,  and  appeared  reckless  of 
consequences  to  themselves  or  their  belongings  could 
they  only  make  a  wild  demonstration.  234  votes 
were  necessary  for  a  choice.  The  third  ballot  gave 
Seward  but  231  and  one-half,  and  180  for  Lincoln, 
with  50  scattering.  Before  the  result  was  announced, 
Carter,  the  chairman  of  the  Ohio  Delegation,  got  up 
on  his  chair  and  announced  the  change  of  four  votes 
from  Chase  to  Lincoln.  The  pandemonium  grew 
greater  as  other  changes  immediately  followed. 
Finally,  when  Lincoln  got  354  votes,  the  pale,  scholarly 
chairman  of  the  New  York  Delegation,  the  champion 
of  Seward,  the  disappointed  Wm.  Evarts,  arose  and 
moved  that  the  nomination  of  Lincoln  be  made 
unanimous.  This  was  seconded  by  Governor  An- 
drews of  Massachusetts.  It  was  very  difficult  to 
announce  intelligibly  the  result  of  such  a  motion 
under  such  circumstances,  for  the  frantic  ayes  and 
deafening  cheers  of  the  zealous  sons  of  Illinois  drowned 
everything  else.  As  each  ballot  was  given  it  was  re- 
ceived at  the  skylight  of  the  building  and  made  known 
from  the  roof  to  the  excited  partisans  in  the  street. 

Seward,  in  campaigning  later  for  his  successful 
competitor,  made  a  powerful  speech  a  little  south  of 
the  wigwam,  the  immense  crowd  packing  Market 
street,  which  was  selected  on  account  of  its  great  width. 

The  subsequent  noble  career  of  these  great  men 
is  a  matter  of  glorious  history  and  does  not  belong 
to  these  reminiscences. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
SOMETHING  REGARDING  A  YOUNG  DRUGGIST 

During  the  year  1899  the  Saturday  Evening  Post, 
established  by  Benjamin  Franklin  in  Philadelphia  in 
1728,  had  a  series  of  articles  by  many  of  our  most 
prominent  business  men,  which  undertook  to  set 
forth  the  reasons  for  so  many  failures  among  young 
men,  and  to  point  out  the  elements  or  traits  of  char- 
acter essential  to  win  success.  Unfortunate  was  it 
for  me  that  I  could  not  have  had  the  benefit  of  their 
experiences  and  suggestions  fifty  years  ago,  when  I 
commenced  with  Henry  Bowman,  at  133  Lake  street, 
to  learn  the  drug  business,  or  two  years  later,  when 
I  went  to  work  for  J.  H.  Reed  &  Co.,  at  144  Lake. 
My  friend,  Bowman,  was  burned  out  about  a  year 
after  my  engaging  with  him,  and  opened  a  small 
store  in  the  Sherman  House  corner,  when  he  kindly 
released  me  from  my  three  years'  agreement  of  $75, 
$125  and  $175  a  year,  respectively.  The  two  inter- 
vening years  I  spent  in  studying  and  working  in  the 
carriage  factory  of  my  brother-in-law,  B.  C.  Welch. 

It  was  in  1852  that  I  engaged  with  J.  H.  Reed  & 
Co.,  the  leading  wholesale  and  retail  establishment 
in  the  city,  the  retail  room  being  the  finest  in  the 
west.  My  salary  was  to  be  $100,  $200  and  $300  for 
the  three  years,  Mr.  Reed  voluntarily  increasing  it 

403 


404  EARLY  CHICAGO     - 

50  per  cent,  each  year.  I  found  that  my  experience 
with  Mr.  Bowman  had  been  of  great  advantage  to  me, 
as  that  gentleman  was  a  thorough  druggist  and  took 
pains  to  instruct  me  and  advance  me  in  every  possible 
manner.  While  there,  I  read  every  prescription  that 
was  put  up  in  the  store,  and  at  my  age  naturally 
progressed  rapidly,  so  much  so,  in  fact,  that  I  put  up, 
under  supervision,  many  prescriptions  after  a  few 
months,  and  by  the  time  I  went  to  the  new  firm, 
which  commenced  business  May  28, 1845,  as  Stebbins 
&  Reed,  at  159  Lake  street,  I  was  considered  compe- 
tent to  be  left  in  charge  of  the  store  on  Sundays  and 
at  night  after  regular  business  hours. 

One  Sunday,  soon  after  my  engagement,  Mr.  Reed 
brought  in  one  of  Dr.  H.  A.  Johnson's  prescriptions 
which  he  handed  me  to  put  up  for  Mrs.  Reed,  and 
took  a  seat  in  the  office  while  I  was  preparing  it. 
Seeing  that  it  contained  strychnine,  I  asked  Mr. 
Reed  if  he  knew  that  the  doctor  had  prescribed 
strychnine.  He  replied  that  he  did,  and  was  glad 
that  I  did,  and  for  that  reason  he  preferred  to  have 
me  put  it  up  than  do  it  himself,  adding  that  if  he 
did  not  consider  me  thoroughly  competent  to  put 
up  medicine  for  his  wife,  he  would  not  have  me 
behind  the  prescription  counter. 

I  loved  work,  and  having  plenty  of  it,  was  perfectly 
happy  in  my  position  and  took  as  much  interest  in 
every  department  of  the  business  as  if  the  store  be- 
longed to  me.  Mr.  Reed  never  knew  that  Horace 
A.  Hurlbut  and  I  worked  from  fourteen  to  sixteen 
hours  a  day  in  winter  and  from  fifteen  to  seventeen 


A  YOUNG  DRUGGIST  405 

in  summer,  but  he  found  we  were  always  ready  for 
the  next  job  even  if  we  had  worked  until  midnight, 
as  we  frequently  did,  to  be  prepared  for  it.  Aside 
from  my  regular  work  it  was  my  custom  to  read  half 
an  hour  a  day  in  the  dispensatory,  and  during  the 
first  year  I  got  through  365  German  lessons.  We 
were  living  at  109  Wabash  avenue  (father  having 
built  there  and  at  111),  and  about  ten  or  eleven 
o'clock  at  night  I  used  to  go  home,  awaken  my 
brother  Will,  recite  my  lesson  to  him,  prepare  one 
for  the  next  night  and  then  return  to  the  store  where 
I  slept. 

During  the  cholera  season  I  was  obliged  to  omit 
German  for  a  month,  but  caught  up  at  two  o'clock 
one  morning  a  few  weeks  afterwards. 

This  terrible  visitation  came  upon  us  with  great 
suddenness  and  virulence,  carrying  off  many  people 
and  frightening  the  rest.  Mr.  Reed  hastened  east 
with  his  family  the  day  after  it  made  its  appearance. 
The  fact  that  Mr.  Ely,  one  of  his  most  intimate 
friends,  was  one  of  the  first  victims,  perfectly  un- 
nerved my  worthy  employer.  Mr.  Hurlbut  was  suf- 
fering from  a  felon  at  the  time,  which  left  only  S.  S. 
Bliss  and  myself  to  put  up  prescriptions.  The  whole- 
sale boys,  under  Mr.  Hurlbut,  were  necessarily 
crowded  with  work,  yet  we  secured  one  of  them  to 
assist  us,  his  duty  being  to  receive  the  prescriptions 
as  they  came  in,  number  them,  give  a  corresponding 
numbered  check,  and  turn  them  over  to  us  to  fill. 
This  was  done  in  regular  order,  and  then  given  to 
the  clerk  for  directions  and  delivery.  In  this  way 


406  EARLY  CHICAGO 

we  were  enabled  to  put  up  several  hundred  in  a  day. 
We  soon  learned  that  each  doctor  generally  pre- 
scribed the  same  formula,  and  by  preparing  a  large 
quantity  at  a  time  we  greatly  expedited  our  work. 
The  epidemic  lasted  for  three  weeks,  during  which 
time  Mr.  Bliss,  the  chief  assistant,  who  was  very 
much  afraid  of  it,  would  not  relieve  me  but  on  three 
Sunday  nights,  when  I  was  permitted  to  sleep  at 
home.  Usually  about  midnight,  as  soon  as  all  the 
customers  were  served,  I  threw  a  mattress  and 
pillow  on  the  marble  floor  and  without  undressing, 
would  snatch  what  sleep  I  could.  I  was  called  up 
at  all  hours,  but  I  slept  like  a  top  between  times. 
Fortunately  I  had  not  the  least  fear  of  taking  the 
cholera,  notwithstanding  the  terrible  strain  and 
constant  exposure  I  was  subjected  to. 

In  the  morning  Mr.  Bliss  would  find  me  extremely 
busy,  but  I  was  obliged  to  leave  the  anxious  cus- 
tomers and  hasten  home  for  a  hearty  breakfast, 
which  I  hurriedly  despatched,  for  I  knew  that 
there  was  more  than  one  poor  sufferer  whose  life 
depended  upon  prompt  treatment,  which  required 
my  presence  and  labor.  At  dinner  time  it  was  the 
same,  these  two  meals  being  the  only  ones  that  I 
had  in  the  twenty-four  hours,  twenty  at  least  of 
which  I  spent  behind  the  prescription  counter.  In 
the  evening  I  had  some  strong  tea,  which  I  took  with 
crackers  while  at  work.  The  epidemic  departed  as 
suddenly  as  it  came,  and  when  the  strain  was  relieved 
I  collapsed  completely.  So  I  got  onto  the  cars  and 
ran  eut  to  Belvidere  for  three  days,  where  my  best 


A  YOUNG  DRUGGIST  407 

girl  lived,  giving  the  conductor  explicit  instructions  to 
be  sure  and  awaken  me  when  my  destination  was 
reached.  They  say  that  I  slept  eighteen  hours 
of  the  twenty-four.  Nothing  could  keep  me  awake 
and  the  folks  were  considerate  enough  not  to  try. 

Upon  my  return  I  almost  had  to  introduce  myself 
to  my  fellow  clerks  so  great  a  change  had  the  three 
days'  rest  effected  in  my  appearance. 

I  was  a  member  of  the  Lyceum  for  more  than  three 
years  out  of  the  four  that  I  was  in  Mr.  Reed's  employ, 
and  it  was  my  usual  custom  to  be  absent  from  the 
store  an  hour  for  each  meal,  breakfast  and  dinner, 
and  half  as  long  for  tea.  My  employer  realized  that  I 
did  not  take  this  set  time  for  the  mere  reason  that  I 
was  entitled  to  it,  as  he  knew  that  while  I  was  at 
home  I  was  preparing  for  my  Lyceum  duties. 

Before  he  went  into  George  Bormann's  drug  store 
my  brother  Will  was  an  excellent  German  scholar, 
and  Mr.  Bormann,  a  German,  was  also  familiar  with 
French,  in  consequence  of  which,  at  my  brother's 
request,  their  conversation  in  the  absence  of  American 
customers  was  .  always  carried  on  in  one  of  those 
languages.  As  it  was  our  intention  to  buy  that 
gentleman  out,  and  as  his  trade  was  largely  German, 
it  became  essential  that  I  should  acquire  a  knowledge 
of  that  language,  which  I  did. 

Had  I  not  possessed  a  strong  strain  of  persistence 
in  my  make  up,  I  doubt  if  I  should  have  carried  out 
my  original  intention,  as  Mr.  Reed  called  me  into  the 
office  one  evening  of  my  second  year  and  said,  "Ed- 
win, this  season  I  am  going  to  take  Horace  (Hurlbut) 


408  EARLY   CHICAGO 

into  partnership  with  me,  and  I  would  like  to  have 
you  enter  the  firm  next  year.  I  am  very  much 
attached  to  you  and  realize  you  are  to  me.  You 
take  the  same  interest  in  the  store  and  everything 
connected  with  it  as  if  it  were  your  own.  And 
keeping  run  of  the  stock  as  you  do,  watching  to  see 
that  it  is  fully  kept  up,  relieves  me  of  a  great  deal 
of  care  and  many  annoyances.  I  want  you  to  know 
that  I  appreciate  it,  and  am  anxious  to  retain  you, 
and  that  I  realize  I  cannot  hope  to  do  so  without 
taking  you  as  a  partner,  which  I  would  like  very 
much  to  do.  As  you  hung  a  piece  of  soiled  wrapping 
paper  on  the  hook  the  other  morning,  you  remem- 
ber, I  asked  you  what  you  did  with  all  the  second 
hand  paper  you  saved?  You  replied  that  you  never 
used  it  excepting  to  wrap  up  lamp-black,  bath-bricks, 
a  bottle  of  turpentine  or  something  of  that  kind, 
where  it  answered  as  well  as  new  paper  would.  This 
proved  to  me,  as  many  other  things  have,  your  per- 
sonal interest  in  my  welfare.  Talk  it  over  with  your 
people  and  see  what  they  think  of  it.  I  hope  you 
will  conclude  to  accept  my  proposition." 

I  replied  that  I  thought  I  took  after  my  mother 
in  not  allowing  anything  to  go  to  waste,  she  having 
brought  me  up  to  be  saving  without  being  penurious. 
She  never  wasted  anything,  though  she  would  give 
away  a  hundred  with  pleasure  when  it  was  to  benefit 
some  needy  person.  As  to  a  partnership,  I  realized 
the  high  compliment  he  paid  me  in  making  me  the 
offer  over  Mr.  Bliss,  who  had  been  with  him  more 
years  than  I  had;  that  my  relations  with  Mr.  Hurlbut 


A  YOUNG  DRUGGIST  409 

and  himself  had  always  been  the  most  cordial  and 
agreeable  possible,  and  I  could  not  but  be  pleased 
to  remain  in  the  finest  store,  the  best  house,  with  the 
most  prosperous  business  in  the  country;  that  con- 
sidering all  these  things  it  might  seem  foolish  to 
decline  and  begin  in  a  small  retail  store,  with  its 
peculiar  care  and  anxiety,  with  the  additional  risk 
of  ultimate  failure.  Nevertheless  I  felt  like  being 
the  architect  of  my  own  fortune.  I  believed  it  would 
develop  me  more  to  begin  at  the  bottom,  to  be  the 
senior  partner  in  a  small  firm  than  a  junior  in  a 
large  one.  Therefore,  to  say  nothing  of  the  disap- 
pointment such  an  arrangement  would  be  to  my 
brother,  I  felt  I  must  abide  by  my  original  intention; 
although  I  wished  him  to  understand  that  I  fully 
appreciated  the  great  favor  he  offered  me,  and, 
above  all,  the  gratifying  evidence  which  the  offer 
bore  of  the  satisfaction  my  services  were  giving, 
which  was  a  higher  compliment  than  he  could  in 
any  other  manner  bestow. 

About  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing  there  was  a 
great  accumulation  of  freight  at  Toledo,  from  some 
cause  which  I  do  not  now  remember;  and  we  sur- 
mised that  some  twenty-five  barrels  of  turpentine 
and  camphene  belonging  to  the  firm  might  be  among 
it.  There  was  no  stock  of  either  article  in  the  city, 
and  I  urged  Mr.  Reed  to  allow  me  to  go  to  Toledo 
and  see  if  I  could  not  get  it.  He  laughed  and  re- 
plied, "  Edwin,  the  railroad  people  inform  me  that 
there  are  several  acres  of  freight  congested  there  in 
perfect  chaos.  You  nor  anyone  else  could  find  any- 


410  EARLY  CHICAGO 

thing."  I  quietly  said,  "I  would  like  to  try,  if  you 
can  get  me  transportation. "  He  thought  a  moment, 
and  said  with  a  smile,  "  I  think  you  could  bring  the 
goods  if  anyone  could,  but  no  one  has  succeeded  in 
doing  much  in  that  line  yet,  although  a  number  have 
tried."  However,  he  got  me  the  transportation, 
provided  me  with  money  and  I  started  to  "Take  the 
message  to  Garcia." 

It  looked  rather  discouraging  when  I  arrived 
at  my  destination  and  saw  what  was  before  me, 
but  that  only  made  me  the  more  determined.  I  im- 
mediately hired  three  or  four  strong  men  and  went 
at  it.  Success  crowned  my  efforts.  I  had  an  urgent 
letter  from  the  Chicago  agent  to  the  Toledo  people 
to  afford  me  every  opportunity  to  find  the  goods, 
and  if  I  should  do  so  to  furnish  a  car  and  bring  them 
in  the  first  train.  Knowing  before  I  left  home  what 
my  work  would  be,  I  wore  clothes  suited  to  it.  When 
we  found  a  barrel,  we  had  often  to  move  a  dozen 
packages  before  we  could  over-end  it  to  see  if  it 
was  ours,  and  then  we  had  to  clear  a  path  to  roll 
it  to  the  car.  But  by  dark  we  had  the  last  barrel 
in  the  car,  the  men  paid  and  the  car  switched  for 
the  train.  And  I  felt  as  proud  as  Caesar  did  when 
he  wrote  "Veni,  vidi,  vici." 

The  goods  reached  Chicago  nearly  as  soon  as  I 
did,  were  promptly  advertised,  and  were  sold  out 
at  a  good  profit  before  any  more  arrived  in  the  city. 

Mr.  Reed  was  one  of  the  best  business  men  of  Chi- 
cago, though  he  cared  but  little  for  the  theoretical 
part  of  his  calling.  Soon  after  I  had  started  with 


A  YOUNG  DRUGGIST  411 

him  I  put  up  a  prescription  for  an  ounce  of  pulverized 
red  Peruvian  bark  and  a  pint  of  best  port  wine,  the 
symbal  0  being  used  to  designate  the  quantity  of 
wine  required.  After  the  customer  had  gone,  I  inno- 
cently inquired  of  my  employer  what  the  letter  0 
stood  for.  He  answered,  "A  pint."  I  told  him  I 
was  aware  of  that,  but  I  wished  to  know  what  word 
it  stood  for.  His  reply  was,  "It  stands  for  a  dollar 
and  a  half  in  that  prescription. 

It  is  no  disparagement  to  Josiah  Hunt  Reed  to  say 
that  he  was  not  so  well  informed  on  the  non-essentials 
of  his  calling  as  are  the  majority  of  our  recent 
graduates  in  Pharmacy.  In  fact  when  he  served  his 
apprenticeship  with  his  uncle,  Josiah  Hunt,  of  Auburn, 
New  York,  he  had  no  opportunity  for  acquiring  the 
knowledge  which  is  required  of  the  pharmacist  of 
to-day.  The  same  is  true  in  my  case.  It  was  in  1859, 
three  years  after  I  became  a  proprietor,  that  an  umber 
of  us  who  had  not  received  the  many  advantages  of  a 
technical  education,  inaugurated  the  Chicago  College 
of  Pharmacy. 

Dr.  Franklin  Scammon  was  chosen  President  and 
was  to  lecture  on  Pharmacy,  Dr.  J.  H.  Rauch  on 
Botany,  Prof.  J.  V.  Z.  Blaney  on  Chemistry.  On 
Materia  Medica  we  had  no  one.  Several  of  the  boys 
graduated,  but  I  considered  it  a  farce  to  receive  a 
diploma  of  Pharmacy  when  I  had  never  heard  a 
single  lecture,  and  so  I  declined  the  too  easily  acquired 
honor.  Among  the  most  prominent  students,  I  re- 
call Albert  E.  Ebert,  then  twenty  years  of  age.  Al- 
bert came  to  Chicago  in  1839,  and  always  takes  pains 


412  EARLY  CHICAGO 

to  have  it  known  that  he  was  then  an  infant,  so  that 
we  may  not  think  him  so  old  as  his  venerable  beard 
might  suggest.  Since  then  he  has  been  President  of 
the  American  Pharmaceutical  Association  and  Pro- 
fessor in  our  present  prominent  College  of  Pharmacy. 
As  a  student  of  Liebig's  he  obtained  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Philosophy  of  the  University  of  Munich; 
an  honor  that  any  man  might  well  be  proud  of. 
Mr.  Ebert  ranks  among  the  foremost  men  of  the  coun- 
try in  his  profession.  As  historian  of  the  Chicago 
Veteran  Druggists'  Association,  he  has  for  a  number 
of  years  devoted  much  time  and  money  in  discharging 
his  trust,  and  has  a  great  deal  to  show  for  his  inde- 
fatigable and  conscientious  labors. 

Although  about  the  first  member  in  Illinois  to  join, 
I  never  attended  but  two  meetings  of  the  American 
Pharmaceutical  Association,  at  one  of  which  I  was 
required  to  read  a  paper,  when  I  received  as  punish- 
ment a  Vice  Presidency. 

I  have  not  been  asked  by  the  Saturday  Evening  Post, 
nor  anyone  else  to  give  my  opinion  of  the  course  for  a 
young  man  to  pursue  in  order  to  achieve  success  in 
business.  But  if  a  strong,  ambitious,  honest  boy  with 
good  habits,  fair  talents  and  a  love  for  work,  will 
always  be  alert  to  do  his  whole  duty  and  something 
more,  aiming  to  fit  himself  for  the  highest  position 
in  the  esablishment  which  employs  him,  by  doing 
faithfully,  fully,  cheerfully  and  conscientiously  the 
drudgery  in  all  intermediate  steps,  helping  his  fellow 
clerks  in  their  duties,  when  his  own  have  been  per- 


A  YOUNG  DRUGGIST  413 

formed,  I  think  the  chances  are  he  will  be  spotted 
for  preferment. 

My  observation  has  taught  me  that  many  boys 
and  young  men  make  the  fatal  mistake  of  doing 
nothing  which  is  not  absolutely  required  of  them. 

I  have  in  mind  two  brothers  who  were  book-keepers. 
One  was  of  an  exceedingly  suspicious  disposition, 
always  on  the  alert  to  see  that  neither  his  employers 
nor  the  clerks  imposed  upon  him.  The  other  was  no 
better  book-keeper,  but  he  was  an  earnest  worker, 
with  an  obliging  disposition,  who  after  he  had  done 
his  own  work  took  great  pleasure  in  assisting  others. 
This  young  man  rose  rapidly  in  the  estimation  of  all 
with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  mastered  the  business 
in  all  its  details,  and  is  to-day  an  indispensable  part- 
ner in  a  very  large  firm,  where  his  income  each  day  is 
more  than  his  brother  can  command  for  a  month's 
services. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

SOME  PERSONAL  MATTERS 

It  was  on  the  1st  of  January,  1856,  that  my  brother 
Will  and  I  carried  out  our  previously  formed  plan, 
and  bought  out  the  drug  store  of  George  Bormann. 
The  Metropolitan  and  the  Briggs  House  were  then 
among  our  most  popular  hotels,  and  from  them  we  de- 
rived considerable  patronage,  but  more  from  our 
many  friends  in  all  parts  of  the  city.  Most  all  of 
the  property  from  Randolph  street  south,  and  from 
LaSalle  street  west,  consisted  of  residences  and  a 
few  small  stores  with  families  above.  This  continued 
until  the  Great  Fire,  when  the  families  were  scattered, 
never  to  return.  Most  of  these  people  were  Ger- 
mans, with  some  Jews,  and  they  were  among  our 
most  desirable  customers,  and  gave  me  constant  op- 
portunity to  utilize  my  laboriously  acquired  German. 

It  was  not  long  after  our  purchase  before  the 
DEUTSCHE  APOTHEKE  (as  our  store  was  called) 
blossomed  out  into  a  beautiful  modern  establishment, 
with  marble  floor,  elegant  soda  fountain,  solid  ma- 
hogany drawers  and  doors  for  our  attractive  upright 
cases,  which  were  filled  with  the  finest  collection  of 
Parian  goods  in  the  city.  The  silver-plated  cases 
were  crowded  with  the  choicest  quality  of  toilet 
articles,  while  our  shop  bottles  were  unequaled  in  the 

415 


416  EARLY  CHICAGO 

west,  costing  forty  cents  per  pound,  the  labels  of 
which,  burned  in  the  glass  ran  from  50  cents  to  $1.75 
each.  The  small  trade  steadily  grew  and  neces- 
sitated the  enlargement  of  the  store,  which  was 
soon  done. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  war  William  F.  Blocki, 
who  for  some  time  had  been  our  head  clerk,  served  his 
country  in  the  vicinity  of  Cairo  for  three  months,  and 
upon  his  return  my  brother  enlisted  for  the  war  which 
ruined  his  health,  and  as  he  did  not  wish  to  again 
engage  in  the  drug  business  I  bought  him  out  and 
eventually  admitted  Mr.  Blocki  as  partner. 

It  was  not  long  before  our  increasing  trade  de- 
manded better  accommodations,  and  in  the  summer 
of  1871,  father  tore  down  the  two  east  stores  and 
considerably  enlarged  our  premises.  These  we  had 
just  moved  into  and  filled  with  goods  when  every- 
thing went  up  in  flames,  insurance  and  all. 

During  the  summer  we  had  purposely  allowed  our 
stock  to  become  depleted,  but  in  the  fall  I  went  east 
and  made  large  purchases.  All  of  these  purchases 
had  been  received  and  were  destroyed,  excepting  a 
line  of  imported  goods  that  did  not  arrive  until 
shortly  after  the  fire.  The  insurance  companies  were 
generally  destroyed  as  well  as  the  property  insured. 
We  received  comparatively  nothing.  Many  of  our 
recent  purchases  were  paid  for  but  some  were  not. 

Firms  who  had  sent  drafts  telegraphed  the  banks 

not  to  present  them.    Eastern  merchants  invariably 

extended  every  favor  to  their  unfortunate  customers. 

I  was  living  at  Oak  Park,  and  while  at  the  breakfast 


SOME  PERSONAL  MATTERS  417 

table  that  Monday  morning,  A.  T.  Hemingway  called 
and  informed  us  of  the  great  catastrophe  which  had 
engulfed  the  city.  I  turned  to  my  wife  and  re- 
marked: "I  am  ready  to  begin  over  again  with  a 
brave  heart,  as  our  beautiful  home  is  left  us,  and  we 
are  so  exceptionally  blest  in  that.  I  will  get  a  store 
as  soon  as  I  reach  the  city,  unless  others  have  antici- 
pated me."  The  Wells  street  depot  was  a  pile  of 
ruins,  and  as  the  train  stopped  west  of  the  river  I 
hastened  over  the  Lake  street  bridge  and  fortunately 
found  Mr.  Blocki  in  front  of  Fuller's  wholesale  drug 
store,  which  was  on  the  west  side  of  Market  street  on 
the  bank  of  the  river  between  Lake  and  Randolph,  in 
Lind's  block.  It  was  the  only  business  block  left  on 
the  south  side.  So  fully  impressed  was  I  with  the 
necessity  of  securing  a  store  immediately,  that  I  paid 
no  attention  to  the  fire.  Realizing  how  powerless 
we  were,  and  how  useless  were  regrets,  I  seized  my 
partner  by  the  hand  and  earnestly  inquired  if  we  were 
too  late  to  hire  a  store  on  the  west  side.  He  mourn- 
fully replied,  "There  are  plenty  of  vacant  stores  I 
think,  but  I  have  lost  everything  and  cannot  engage 
in  business  again."  While  we  were  talking  we  had 
hurriedly  reached  Randolph  street  bridge,  when  I 
jokingly  said :  "  Cheer  up  my  boy,  or  I  will  throw  you 
into  the  river.  Lost  everything?  Why  we  have  lost 
nothing  but  money,  which  we  can  soon  earn  again. 
We  have  health,  credit,  youth,  good  reputation,  our 
homes  are  intact,  and  we  are  blessed  with  devoted 
wives  and  loving  children.  We  have  everything  to 
encourage  us,  if  we  wisely  look  ahead  with  hope,  and 


418  EARLY  CHICAGO 

not  back  of  us  through  cowardly  tears.  Our  custom- 
ers will  flock  to  us,  and  in  the  excitement  of  new  con- 
ditions, we  shall  forget  our  losses  in  the  pleasure  of 
our  new  gains."  (I  do  not  know  but  that  I  talked 
a  bit  braver  than  I  felt.)  When  we  reached  57  West 
Randolph  street  we  found  an  empty  brick  store 
25  by  60  bearing  this  blessed  legend: 

FOR    RENT. 


On  enquiry  we  learned  from  the  agent  that  the 
block  belonged  to  Dr.  Ingals,  but  that  a  Mr.  Wis- 
dom had  hired  the  store  and  lived  over  it,  and  it 
was  doubtful  whether  he  would  let  it  for  a  drug 
store,  because  he  had  just  made  out  a  lease  to  Weare 
&  Co.,  Paints  and  Oils,  and  withdrawn  it.  We 
hied  away  to  Mr.  Wisdom,  whom  we  found  in  his 
planing  mill  on  Canal  street.  He  told  us  that  we 
might  have  the  store.  We  signed  the  lease  already 
executed,  to  save  time  of  drawing  up  another,  merely 
substituting  our  names  and  business  in  place  of  the 
original.  In  five  minutes  we  had  a  paper  sign  on  the 
window  announcing  "  Gale  and  Blocki  will  occupy  this 
store  in  a  few  days  with  a  full  line  of  drugs  and  toilet 
articles." 

I  accompanied  Mr.  Wisdom  to  his  mill,  where  I 
purchased  a  pile  of  pine  lumber  for  shelves  and  count- 
ters  which  was  delivered  immediately.  Where  the 
carpenters  came  from  out  of  the  ashes  and  flames 
I  do  not  know,  but  we  soon  had  five  of  them  at  work. 


SOME  PERSONAL  MATTERS  419 

Our  clerks,  discovering  our  whereabouts,  were  soon 
busy.  One  was  sent  to  Fuller's  to  select  a  line  of 
patent  medicines,  another  to  my  brother-in-law's 
drug  store  at  387  State  street  to  get  up  a  little  stock 
of  medicines  for  prescriptions.  While  all  this  was 
transpiring,  Mr.  Blocki  and  I  managed  to  make  out  a 
list  of  goods  for  him  to  purchase  in  the  east.  By 
Wednesday  noon  the  goods  were  received  from  Ful- 
ler's and  John  Ehrman's;  the  carpenters  had  finished 
and  were  paid  off,  and  the  windows  were  washed  and 
ornamented  with  paper  signs,  such  as: 


READY  FOR  BUSINESS. 

A  PULL  LINE  OF 

TOOTH  AND  HAIR  BRUSHES, 
COMBS,  ETC. 


Our  clerks  at  an  expense  of  $50,  had  saved  these 
useful  articles  together  with  our  stock  of  artificial  eyes 
and  our  prescription  books.  As  no  one  had  seen  a 
comb  or  brush  since  Saturday,  they  found  eager 
purchasers.  When  I  went  home  on  Wednesday  night 
we  had  put  up  three  prescriptions  and  taken  $17, 
which  seemed  an  enormous  sum.  On  Tuesday  even- 
ing Mr.  Blocki  went  east,  our  old  friend,  H.  M.  Hooker, 
lending  us  $100  for  his  expenses.  How  did  I  pay 
back  that  $100  the  next  day,  do  you  ask?  I  will  tell 
you.  It  was  one  of  those  circumstances  that  befell 
many  in  those  wild  times,  when  men  carried  their 


420  EARLY  CHICAGO 

hearts  on  the  outside,  and  were  frequently  guilty  of 
almost  divine  conduct. 

That  "Grand  Old  Man,"  Father  Kettlestrings,  as 
we  were  wont  to  call  him,  came  to  my  house  and 
asked  me  if  I  could  use  $5,000.  I  told  him  "  I  should 
smile,"  which  I  guess  I  did.  He  said  he  had  that 
amount  which  he  would  be  delighted  to  have  me  use 
as  long  as  I  wanted  it.  I  asked  what  security  I  should 
give  him.  "Nothing  but  your  note.  That  is 
good  enough  for  me."  Why  did  his  voice  tremble 
and  the  tell-tale  tears  stand  in  his  eyes  when  he 
grasped  my  hand?  Well,  if  any  who  read  these  lines 
have  a  heart  like  his,  full  of  the  richest  kind  of  hu- 
manity, they  well  know  why.  And  they  will  know, 
too,  something  of  what  I  felt  when  he  made  me  that 
noble  offer,  which  I  gratefully  accepted.  Many  will 
never  forget  the  goodness  of  the  man  who  never  fore- 
closed a  mortgage,  nor  took  advantage  of  one's 
necessities,  but  ever  helped  the  poor  to  help  them- 
selves, assisting  many  an  humble  toiler  to  provide 
himself  with  a  pleasant  home.  Their  tears  as  they 
fell  upon  his  coffin  seemed  a  baptism  from  their  God, 
and  were  a  tribute  to  his  worth  that  the  proudest  of 
our  race  might  well  envy. 

I  will  mention  the  final  outcome  of  that  $5,000. 

When  I  had  time  to  plan  beyond  the  present,  I 
told  Mr.  Kettlestrings  that  I  would  borrow  $10,000 
on  my  homestead  and  pay  him  up.  His  reply  was, 
"  I  do  not  like  to  have  you  mortgage  your  beautiful 
home,  Edwin."  And  after  thinking  a  moment  he 
asked  if  I  could  get  along  with  $8,000  instead  of 


SOME  PERSONAL  MATTERS  421 

$10,000.  I  replied  I  could,  but  thought  as  long  as  I 
was  going  to  hire  money  I  might  as  well  obtain  the 
larger  sum.  Said  he,  "I  have  given  my  children 
$3,000,  which  I  will  hire  and  let  you  have,  I  will  take 
the  mortgage,  and  should  anything  happen  to  you, 
your  wife  and  'childers'  will  never  be  turned  out  of 
doors."  His  soul  stamped  his  words.  Nothing 
happened  to  me;  but  when  he  was  placed  in  Forest 
Home  Cemetery,  I  wondered  how  he  could  be  needed 
so  much  in  Paradise  as  here,  where  he  brought  the 
beautiful  influence  of  Heaven  to  many  who  so  much 
needed  his  kind  companionship  and  gentle  service. 

Mr.  Kettlestrings  was  a  Yorkshire  man  and  a 
devout  Methodist.  Another  man,  a  neighbor  and  a 
Jew,  has  recently  joined  company  with  him  in  the  land 
where  good  souls  dwell.  Yes,  William  Steiner,  who 
ever. emulated  our  elder  friend  in  kindly  deeds,  can- 
not be  far  removed  from  him  now  they  have  reached 
that  higher  plane  of  soul  development. 

Mr.  Steiner  kept  the  principal  store  in  Oak  Park. 
Coming  to  the  house  a  few  evenings  after  the  fire  he 
said,  Mr.  Gale,  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  I  realize 
your  loss,  and  I  want  you  to  buy  everything  you  can 
of  me  for  a  year.  I  have  almost  everything  your 
family  require,  dry  goods,  groceries,  boots  and 
shoes,  hardware,  crockery,  clothing,  and  everything 
a  general  country  store  contains.  I  will  enter  in  a 
pass  book  what  you  get,  and  you  may  put  down  such 
prices  as  you  think  right.  Do  that  for  a  year,  after 
which,  trade  where  you  please;  and  when  perfectly 
convenient  you  can  pay  me,  without  interest."  Of 


422  EARLY  CHICAGO 

course  I  appreciated  the  heart  that  prompted  the 
offer,  though  it  was  not  necessary  for  me  to  avail  my- 
self of  it. 

Jew  and  gentile  were  alike  to  William  Steiner. 
Did  an  Irish  woman  lose  her  cow,  the  barn  of  a  Ger- 
man burn  down,  the  horse  of  an  American  teamster 
die,  William  Steiner  headed  a  subscription  with  a 
sum  that  shamed  the  amount  which  our  stingier  selves 
might  otherwise  have  given.  Did  a  fellow  townsman, 
because  of  sickness  or  want  of  work,  suffer  from 
want  of  cash  with  which  to  purchase  life's  necessities? 
Never.  He  could  buy  as  cheaply  of  Steiner  as 
though  he  paid  cash,  and  could  pay  when  fortune 
favored  him.  It  pleases  me  to  tell  how  I  was  once 
able  to  do  him  a  little  service  in  return. 

When  Cleveland  was  President,  Steiner  and  H. 
C.  Hansen  were  both  applicants  for  the  position  of 
Postmaster.  Both  requested  me  to  sign  their  petition. 
I  told  them  that  instead  of  signing  petitions,  which 
I  seldom  did,  I  would  write  each  a  letter,  stating 
that  I  was  a  Republican  and  as  such  would  prefer 
the  present  incumbent;  but  that  should  a  change  be 
made,  either  William  Steiner  or  H.  C.  Hansen,  who 
were  highly  respected  citizens,  would  no  doubt  be 
satisfactory  to  the  public.  Sometime  after  giving 
this  indorsement,  Judge  Tuley  and  I  were  talking 
in  the  rear  of  our  store  when  Steiner  came  in,  labor- 
ing under  great  excitement,  and  wanted  to  see  me  a 
moment.  I  excused  myself  to  the  Judge  and  heard 
Steiner's  story,  which  was  to  the  effect  that  the  friends 
of  Hansen  had  circulated  a  report  that  he,  Steiner, 


SOME  PERSONAL  MATTERS  423 

was  a  common  drunkard,  and  as  a  consequence  he 
had  no  chance  to  get  the  office.  I  took  him  back  and 
introduced  him  to  the  Judge,  whose  advice  I  asked. 
He  wanted  to  know  if  I  was  acquainted  with  Horace 
A.  Hurlbut,  then  in  charge  of  the  "Times,"  in  con- 
nection with  the  Storey  estate.  I  replied  that  we 
were  warm,  personal  friends,  having  been  together 
for  four  years  with  J.  H.  Reed  &  Co.,  "Well,"  said 
the  Judge,  "he  is  the  power  behind  the  throne  here 
andean  give  you  any  thing  you  want."  I  went  with 
Steiner  to  Hurlbut,  who  said,  "Anything  you  say, 
Ed.,  goes  with  me,  I  know  you  would  not  recommend 
a  drunkard,  nor  anyone  who  would  not  be  a  suitable 
person.  I  will  give  you  a  message  to  our  Washington 
correspondent  to  deliver  immediately  to  Post- 
master General  Vilas,  and  I  guess  Steiner  will  get 
the  office."  It  read: 

"Vilas: 

The  appointment  of  William  Steiner  as  Postmaster 
of  Oak  Park  would  be  a  personal  favor. 

HORACE  A.  HURLBUT." 

The  next  morning  I  received  from  Mr.  Hurlbut 
the  following  telegram: 

"Horace  A.  Hurlbut: 

William  Steiner  will  be  appointed  P.  M.  of  Oak 
Park.  Vilas." 

I  took  the  message  to  Steiner  by  first  train,  and 
then  I  called  upon  Hansen  and  told  him  what  I  had 
done.  I  had  in  the  first  place  spoken  well  of  both 
applicants  and  would  not  favor  one  against  the  other. 


424  EARLY  CHICAGO 

After  which  I  was  bound  to  fight  for  the  man  who 
was  traduced.  Had  Steiner's  friends  circulated  such 
lies  about  Hansen  as  his  friends  had  against  Steiner, 
he  would  have  been  appointed  instead  of  Steiner. 
Hansen  expressed  regret  that  such  stories  had  been 
started  and  said  that  it  had  been  done  without  con- 
sulting him.  Nor  was  I  at  all  sorry  to  be  thus  able 
to  serve  the  man  who  had  tried  to  serve  me. 

I  think  it  was  on  the  Thursday  following  the  fire 
that  my  wife  came  into  the  store  and  wanted  me  to 
go  with  her  to  see  the  ruins  of  202.  As  I  had  not 
been  there  since  the  fire.  I  went,  and  was  surprised 
to  find  that  our  Herring  safe  was  intact.  Our  office 
had  been  located  nearly  over  the  furnace  around 
which  no  goods  had  been  stored,  and  the  safe  dropped 
in  a  corner  and  was  somewhat  protected. 

While  Mrs.  Gale  was  gathering  a  few  relics,  I  bor- 
rowed a  sledge  hammer,  smashed  in  the  door  of  the 
safe  and  was  gratified  to  find  everything  it  contained 
in  good  condition,  except  that  the  leather  binding  of 
the  books  peeled  off,  and  there  was  a  little  discolora- 
tion of  the  papers.  I  was  quite  enthusiastic  over 
this  find,  and  my  better  half  remarked:  "I  don't  see 
how  you  can  appear  so  happy.  You  have  been  fairly 
jolly  ever  since  your  great  loss."  I  told  her  that  I 
always  looked  on  the  bright  side,  as  she  knew;  and, 
that  with  lots  of  hard  work  ahead,  which  I  always 
enjoyed,  and  plenty  of  strength  to  do  it,  I  should  be 
ungrateful  if  I  overlooked  the  many  blessings  that 
still  surrounded  me. 

During  the  summer  my  partner  and  I  had  con- 


425 

tracted  for  forty  acres  of  beautiful  grove  property, 
at  $1,000  an  acre,  between  the  North  Western  station 
at  River  Forest  (then  Thatcher),  and  Madison  street, 
being  three  tiers  of  lots  188  feet  deep  in  the  half-mile 
strip.  Several  friends  had  agreed  to  take  a  half  in- 
terest with  us,  to  build  and  settle  on  it  immediately. 
On  the  Friday  before  the  fire,  we  secured  the  deed 
in  our  own  name,  made  the  $10,000  payment  and 
arranged  with  Mr.  Fox  to  go  out  on  the  following 
Monday  to  make  the  survey  and  divide  the  property. 

But  our  friends  were  burned  out,  and  could  not 
perform  their  promises,  while  our  deed  and  trust  deed 
were  consumed  with  the  court  house.  We  offered 
to  return  the  property  for  our  $30,000  notes,  the 
seller  to  retain  the  $10,000  cash  we  had  paid  him. 
He  would  not  do  that,  and  when,  the  next  year,  we 
had  an  opportunity  to  sell  at  a  handsome  advance, 
he  would  not  permit  us  to  do  so  although  we  offered 
to  turn  the  cash  received  and  all  the  securities  over 
to  him  until  he  had  his  equity.  I  mention  this  little 
incident  to  show  that  not  every  man  one  encountered 
in  those  dark  days  was  a  Kettlestrings  or  a  Steiner. 
This  $2,400  a  year  interest  with  taxes  thrown  onto 
a  man  with  a  family  of  fourteen  depending  upon  him 
was,  under  all  the  circumstances,  no  sinecure,  to  say 
the  least. 

After  the  fire  father  offered  to  give  me  one-third 
of  his  eighty  feet  if  I  would  build  upon  it,  and  he 
would  improve  the  balance.  But  I  declined  the 
offer,  mainly  because  of  Henry  Schoelkopfs  position 
on  the  subject.  He  was  the  leading  German  grocer 


426  EARLY  CHICAGO 

in  the  city,  and  had  long  been  identified  with  Ran- 
dolph street.  Immediately  after  being  burned  out, 
he  commenced  again,  as  we  did  on  the  west  side, 
and  started  to  build  on  his  former  site,  but  declared 
he  would  remain  for  several  years  where  he  was  and 
rent  his  building,  which  at  that  time  would  be  a  poor 
place  for  trade.  I  tried  in  every  way  to  show  him 
the  folly  of  such  a  course.  I  considered  it  the  duty 
and  policy  of  all  to  immediately  restore  business  to 
its  former  channels.  But  I  could  not  convince  him, 
although  he  afterwards  told  me  that  he  was  sorry 
he  had  not  taken  my  advice,  as  he  had  vacant  stores 
most  of  the  time,  received  as  storage  room  from 
Field  &  Co.  but  little  and  was  compelled  a  few 
years  later  to  return  and  occupy  his  property,  after 
Randolph  street  had  lost  its  prestige  as  a  good 
retail  point. 

And  here  I  am  tempted  to  tarry  a  little  longer  over 
a  purely  personal  matter,  that  it  may  be  seen  how 
I  derived  so  much  courage  and  strength  at  home. 

Among  those  who  had  lost  theirs  by  the  great  fire 
was  Julian  S.  Rumsey,  who  had  one  of  the  most  at- 
tractive places  on  the  north  side. 

This  gentleman  surprised  me  when  I  returned  from 
the  city  a  few  evenings  after  the  calamity,  by  greeting 
me  with  the  remark  that  Charley  Jenks,  one  of  his 
clerks  who  resided  in  Oak  Park,  had  suggested  that 
it  might  be  possible  for  Rumsey  to  hire  our  house 
furnished  for  a  year,  and  that  he  had  taken  the  liberty 
of  coming  out  to  see  if  it  could  be  secured.  Just  then 


SOME  PERSONAL  MATTERS  427 

my  wife  entered  the  room,  and  with  more  joy  de- 
picted on  her  countenance  than  had  shown  itself  since 
the  great  catastrophe  she  said  that  she  wanted  to 
help  me  all  she  could  and  thought  she  might  do  so  by 
hiring  a  cheaper  house.  She  knew  of  one  that  could 
be  had  furnished  for  $600  a  year,  while  Mr.  Rumsey 
would  pay  $1,800  for  ours  cash  in  advance.  More- 
over, she  had  gladly  accepted  his  offer,  subject  to 
my  approval.  Did  I  kiss  the  dear  girl?  Well,  I  am 
not  ashamed  to  say  that  with  trembling  lips  I  did. 
And  the  first  expression  of  grief  that  I  had  allowed 
myself  to  display  now  dropped  from  my  eyes  upon 
her  cheek,  as  I  clasped  her  hands  with  a  "God  bless 
you,  darling  wife,  I  appreciate,  I  appreciate  your  love, 
your  fortitude  and  devotion;  but  I  cannot  think  of 
having  you  leave  this  sacred  spot,  our  home;  no, 
no,  I  cannot  for  a  moment  entertain  an  idea  involv- 
ing so  much  sacrifice." 

Then  she  pleaded  with  me.  She  could  support  the 
family  on  the  difference  in  rent,  and  would  not  call 
on  me  for  a  dollar  in  twelve  months,  and  such-like, 
wifely  arguments.  But  I  assured  her  that  as  a  matter 
of  business  policy  it  would  be  unwise  to  display  such 
an  evidence  of  disaster.  Moreover,  there  really  was 
no  occasion  to  go  to  such  an  extreme. 

Mr.  Rumsey  was  not  disappointed  at  my  conclusion 
but  remarked,  "If  an  additional  amount  of  money 
would  be  any  object,  state  the  sum."  I  thanked 
him  and  said  that  no  money  would  induce  me  to 
leave  the  dear  place. 


428  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Again,  turning  to  my  wife,  I  read  in  her  glowing 
face  the  brave  and  tender  lines: 

"Bitter?    I  know  it.     God  hath  made  it  so. 

But  from  his  hand  shall  we  take  good  alone, 
And  evil  never?    Let  the  world's  wealth  go; 

Life  hath  no  loss  which  love  cannot  atone. 
Show  me  the  new  hard  path  which  we  must  tread; 

I  shall  not  faint,  nor  falter  by  the  way, 
And  be  there  cloud  or  sunshine  overhead, 

I  shall  not  fail  thee  till  thy  dying  day." 


THE  FORT  DEARHORX  BLOCK  HOUSE,  DEMOLISHED  ix  1856. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

CONCLUSION 

As  at  times  I  have  stood  in  thought  on  the  threshold 
of  advancing  manhood  and  looked  back  through  the 
doorway  of  my  youth,  I  have  recalled  the  Chicago  as 
it  was  in  the  days  of  my  childhood  and  marked  the 
changes  which  time  had  already  wrought.  The 
officer's  quarters  of  the  old  fort  had  been  laid  hold 
of  and  dragged  to  the  corner  of  State  and  Thirty- 
third  streets.  The  barracks  and  other  buildings 
within  the  palisade  had  been  gradually  removed  and 
used  for  other  purposes,  as  the  fear  of  Indian  depre- 
dations no  longer  haunted  the  people.  The  tall 
pickets  had  been  used  for  the  ignoble  purposes  of 
boiling  cabbages  and  barring  the  chilly  breath  of 
winter  from  the  stuffy  rooms  of  neighboring  cabins 
and  saloons.  But  it  was  not  until  1856  that  the  last 
vestige  of  the  fort  disappeared  in  the  demolition  of 
the  famous  blockhouse.  Some  of  our  newspaper 
historians  and  imaginative  artists  seek  to  increase 
the  importance  of  this,  the  second  fort,  by  giving  it 
two  of  these  valuable  defences;  but  they  are  wrong, 
it  had  but  one.  And  I  confess  that  I  often  wished, 
when  gazing  upon  that  materialized  dream — the 
White  City  of  the  World's  Columbian  Exposition — 
that  this  little  structure  might  have  been  placed 

420 


430  EARLY  CHICAGO 

beside  the  reproduction  of  the  Convent  of  La  Rabida, 
"where  Columbus  found  shelter  in  the  time  of 
trouble."  How  eloquently  would  those  two  mute 
relics  of  the  past  conjure  up  the  stirring  history  of  the 
Old  World  and  the  recent  experiences  of  the  New. 
That  plain  blockhouse  with  its  simple  story  would 
have  been,  to  the  countless  multitudes  who  came 
from  every  quarter  of  the  globe  to  delight  in  the 
wonders  there  revealed,  the  greatest  marvel  of  them 
all.  Will  not  our  commissioners  reproduce  it  in  one 
of  our  parks?  Beyond  the  garden  and  parade  ground 
the  primitive  houses  had  given  place  to  the  more 
substantial  improvements  of  stores  and  warehouses. 
The  groves  and  forests  had  long  since  disappeared, 
like  the  Indians  who  were  wont  to  hunt  and  pitch 
their  Nomadic  lodges  in  their  grateful  shade,  leaving 
no  trace  that  they  had  ever  existed.  Those  noble 
honey  locusts,  in  the  cool  shadows  of  whose  graceful 
boughs  and  delicate  leaves  I  swung  and  sported  in 
my  boyhood  days  with  my  happy  mates,  had  gone 
forever,  like  most  of  that  joyous  group  who  spent  so 
many  delightful  hours  there  together. 

While  the  generous  men  who  planted  and  cared  for 
those  graceful  trees,  leaving  in  them  transient  yet 
charming  monuments  to  their  forethought  and  disin- 
terested good  will  for  those  who  should  come  after 
them,  though  transmitting  to  us  no  record  of  who  per- 
formed this  generous  civic  act,  may  have  left  on  the 
historic  page  an  imprint  of  heroic  deeds  in  war  which 
a  grateful  country  would  not  willingly  let  perish. 

I  will  not  dwell  on  the  Civil  War,  nor  speak  of  what 


CONCLUSION  431 

our  patriotic  men  and  women  did  for  its  amelioration 
and  the  achievement  of  its  successful  termination, 
save  to  record  an  incident  connected  with  the  presence 
of  Generals  Grant  and  Sherman  at  one  of  the 
Sanitary  Fairs.  It  was  on  Saturday,  June  10,  1865, 
that  the  generals  arrived.  Proceeding  after  a  grand 
parade  and  ovation,  to  Dearborn  Park,  where  the 
fair  was  held,  they  found  that  the  populace  had 
ignored  the  measures  taken  for  admitting  the  par- 
ticipants in  the  parade,  and  packed  the  place  full. 
Grant,  in  performing  one  of  his  favorite  flank  move- 
ments to  reach  the  platform  with  Sherman  and 
President  T.  B.  Bryan,  passed  through  the  booth  in 
charge  of  Mrs.  General  Mulligan,  whose  little 
daughter  he  recognized  and  stopped  to  kiss.  There 
was  a  pathos  in  the  simple  act,  causing  many 
a  tear  to  flow  from  those  who  knew  the  fatherless 
child,  while  those  who  did  not  showed  their  apprecia- 
tion of  the  gentle  heart  that  beat  beneath  the  blue  by 
deafening  huzzas.  Crowding  their  way  to  the  plat- 
form, President  Bryan  waited  until  the  demonstra- 
tion had  partially  subsided,  when  he  introduced  the 
"Silent  Soldier,"  who  made  as  Ms  first  speech: 

"Gentlemen  and  ladies,  as  I  never  made  a  speech 
in  my  life,  I  will  ask  Governor  Yates  of  Illinois  to 
return  the  thanks  which  I  should  fail  to  express." 

Just  then  some  one  in  the  vast  assembly  shouted, 
"  Grant,  if  you  won't  speak,  make  Sherman. "  Grant 
instantly  made  that  historical  reply:  "I  never  ask 
a  soldier  to  do  what  I  cannot  do  myself." 

As  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  treat  of  recent  events , 


432  EARLY  CHICAGO 

I  will  close  with  a  brief  allusion  to  the  Great  Fire, 
which,  starting  in  the  rear  of  137  De  Koven  street, 
on  the  west  side ,  about  9  o'clock  on  Sunday  night, 
October  8,  1871,  in  a  little  more  than  24  hours  de- 
stroyed $196,000,000  worth  of  property. 

Everything  was  favorable  for  the  Fire  Fiend.  A 
long,  dry  and  excessively  hot  spell,  accompanied  by 
a  strong  southwest  wind,  had  prepared  the  pine 
kindling  scattered  through  the  city  in  the  shape  of 
wooden  houses  for  its  successful  onslaught.  Added 
to  this,  there  had  been,  the  night  before,  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  where  the  second  originated,  a  fire  which 
consumed  four  blocks.  This  had  somewhat  ex- 
hausted the  firemen,  at  the  same  time  ruining  their 
hose  and  damaging  the  engines;  the  result  being  that 
they  could  offer  but  feeble  resistance  to  the  flames 
of  that  simoon,  which  drove  the  burning  brands  for 
blocks,  dashed  them  through  windows,  igniting  every- 
thing they  touched,  making  waves  of  fire,  hundreds 
of  feet  high  that  nothing  could  approach,  nothing 
could  resist.  Marble  and  stone,  bricks  and  iron  went 
down  in  that  wild  ocean  of  flame,  like  the  prairie 
grass  in  autumn  when  devoured  by  the  same  element. 
Great  sheets  of  fire  would  dash  against  our  modern 
fire-pjoof  buildings  and  pour  through  them  as  waters 
through  the  openings  of  a  sinking  ship.  Losing  no 
time,  gaining  in  fury  by  the  inflammable  contents 
they  drank,  they  ran  their  maddened  race,  until 
1,688  acres  of  close  standing  buildings  were  blotted 
from  existence. 

But  through  the  gloom  of  that  terrible  disaster  did 


CONCLUSION  433 

the  star  of  hope  most  grandly  shine.  The  world  came 
to  our  succor,  supported  and  encouraged  us  by  the 
noblest  display  of  human  sympathy,  benevolence, 
and  Christ-like  action  ever  exhibited  in  the  annals 
of  the  race. 

Exactly  twenty-two  years  after  the  Great  Fire  I 
viewed  the  Cyclorama  of  it,  which  suggested  the 
following  verses,  and,  although  published  at  the 
time  in  the  Chicago  Evening  Journal,  I  will  take  the 
liberty  to  again  present  by  way  of  closing  my  remi- 
niscences. 

My  brave,  dear  friend  of  early  days, 

Young  city  of  my  constant  joy, 
Whom  I  have  watched  with  proud  amaze, 

Since  you  were  town,  and  I  was  boy, 
How  marvelous  has  been  thy  stride, 

Without    a    parallel    thy    growth; 
From   river   bank   to   prairie   wide, 

How  marked  the  changes  in  us  both. 

I  ever  loved  you  like  a  friend, 

A  cherished  comrade  of  my  heart; 
I  never  dreamed  that  love  would  end, 

When  I   was  man,   and   you   were   mart, 
But  rather  it  and  pride  would  grow, 

As  years  would  add  but  strength  to  thee, 
Though,    surely    they    would    filch    the    glow, 

That  youth  was  pleased  to  place  on  me. 

I  little   dreamt   that   I  should   see 

This    carnival    of   death,    and    flame; 
That  I  would  have  thee  snatched  from  me. 

And  in  thy  ashes  write  my  name. 
I  little  thought  as  I  saw  rise 

Palatial    homes,    and    buildings    grand, 
Saw    men    of    wealth    and    enterprise 

Come    pouring    in    from    every    land. 


434  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Saw  churches  line  long  avenues, 

Where  I  had  tramped  with  dog  and  gun, 
Saw   steamers  ride,   where  in  canoes 

I,   Indian  races  had  seen  run, 
Saw  crystal  creek,  where  perch,  and  bass 

Of' t  struggled  on  my  baited  hook, 
Become   so  foul   that   we,   alas, 

Would  cross  it  with  averted  look. 

Saw  all  these  changes  come,   and  find 

Such  marvels,  that  they  almost  seem 
v.    The    tale    of    some    distorted    mind, 

The  senseless  image  of  a  dream. 
Yet    changes   stranger   were   in   store 

For  stream  and  town,  for  wood  and  lea, 
Than  we  had  ever  seen  before — 

Since  Fort,  and  Post  gave  birth  to  thee. 

Thou  Carthage  of  the  giant  west, 

That   on   this   modern   Libyan   sand 
Arose,  as  by  some  Dido  blest, 

By   Magic   wand   in   outstretched   hand. 
No  Marius  I  wished  to  be, 

And    on    thy    smouldering    ruins    gaze, 
But    proudly    read    thy    destiny 

In   less  rough   paths,    in   less   wild    ways. 

Then    dared    no    horoscope    to    show 

What   I   have   seen   in    direful   grief. 
Thy   empty   hands   upraised   in   woe. 

In    woe    that    passes    all    belief! 
I  see  the  flame  from  wooden  shed 

Fast  lick  with  fiery  tongue  its  path, 
Its  flaming  banner  overhead, 

Portentous  of  the  demon's  wrath. 

I  hear  mid  crackling  flames,  the  cry 
Of   terror   stricken   people,    pale; 

See   burning   brands   in   lurid   sky, 

Borne   far,    and   high   on   flaming   gale, 

As   hurled   from    some   volcanic   pile, 


CONCLUSION  435 

They,  hissing,  roaring,  drop»below, 
Intensifying  mile  on  mile 
The  seething  caldron,  all  aglow. 

Wild,   frantic    horses    loosed    from    stalls, 

Rush    frenzied    in    the    flames    again; 
The   air  is   filled   with   anguished   calls, 

Of     children,     women,     frightened     men, 
All    struggling   under   heavy   loads, 

Of  what   they,   each,   may  highest   prize; 
Piled    wagons    tear   along   the    roads, 

Where  urging  whip,  hot  flame  supplies. 

Hemmed  in  by  blinding  smoke,   and   heat, 

Surge  aimlessly  the  motley  mass, 
And   gladly   follow   any   street 

Through  which  in  safety  they  can  pass. 
The  young,  and  old,  each  other  cheer; 

Endurance    urging    to    its    length, 
And  tender  arms  bear  those  held  near 

That  never  guessed  before  their  strength. 

And  oft  a  strong  JEneas  saved 

A  Priam  from  our  burning  Troy, 
No  bard  to  note  the  perils  braved, 

Their  names  to  praise,  no  pens  employ. 
The  flames  expire;  the  embers  die, 

In  ashes,  hot,  mad  demons  laugh; 
Black  clouds  of  smoke  obscure  the  sky, 

A  mourning  veil  and  cenotaph. 

The  night  wears  on,  the  morning  breaks, 

Our  hopeless  ruin  is  complete; 
Yet  ere  the  dawn  man's  love  awakes, 

His  untold  wealth  is  at  our  feet. 
Our  prayer  for  daily  bread  they  heard, 

Who  never  knew  our  tongue  before. 
By  deed  'tis  answered,  not  by  word, 

And  with  their  hearts,  their  gifts  they  pour. 

From  lands  beyond  the  farthest  seas 
Come  flowing  tides  of  noble  men, 


436  EARLY  CHICAGO 

Amid  our  ashes  bend  their  knees, 
And  raise  for  us  our  homes  again. 

I  close  my  eyes  on  this  changed  scene, 
On  earlier  days,  in  heart  commune; 

I  see  the  boundless  prairie,  green, 
Aglow  with  Flora's  brightest  bloom. 

I  see  the  line  of  shaded  grove, 

The  ash,  and  oak  in  varied  hue, 
I  see  our  town  towards  them  move, 

When  all  the  world  seemed  fresh  and  new, 
-    I  see  the  great  vicissitude, 

I  see  the  change  from  sod  to  street, 
I  see  from  ashes  where  we  stood 

My  loved  Chicago  stand  complete. 


INDEX 


Abbey  &  Co.,  187. 
Abell,  Sidney,  376. 
Abstract  Business,  273,  274. 
Adams,  J.  Q.,  192,  193,  194. 
Advertisements,    Druggists, 

246,  247,  248. 
Albee,  Cyrus  P.,  75. 
Allen,  James,  49,  52,  53,  261, 

323 

Allen  &  Boyce,  272. 
Allen  &  Walter,  323. 
American  Fur  Company,  129, 

141. 

Pharmaceutical  As- 
sociation, 412. 
Ancient  Mounds,  9. 
Andrews,  Governor,  402. 
Annuities,  107. 

How    paid,     107, 

108. 
Archer  Avenue,  305. 

"      Col'n.,  305. 
Archimedes,  (steamer),  304, 

305 

Arnold,  Isaac  N.,  158,  159. 
Astor,  John  Jacob,  129. 
Auctions,  166,  167,  168. 
Au.  Sable,  Jean,  14. 
Aux  Plaines,  44,  92. 

Saw  Mill,  42. 
Austin,  92. 
Ayers,  Enos,  167. 

Badin,  Rev.  Stephen  D.,  132. 
Bailey,  Amos,  222. 
Ball  Game,  214. 
Ball,  Lebbus,  329. 
Ballou,  Rev.  Hosea,  120. 
Band,  Chicago,  115. 


Barbecue,  Harrison,  115. 
Barrows,  Mrs.,  80. 
Banks,  253. 

Dr.  James  N.,  359. 
Bates,  John,  51,  53,  166,  167, 

254,  313,  373. 
&  Montgomery,  362. 
"  Bill.",  214. 
Beach,  John,  51. 
Beaubien,  Alexander,  89,  90, 
91,    92,    101, 
110,  119,  130, 
131,  132,  133, 
139,  240,  292. 
Jean  Baptiste,  14, 
31,    50,    101, 
122,  123,  129, 
130,  131,  157, 
239,  245,  292, 
361. 

Claim,  129,  130. 
George,  136. 
Mark,  32,  33,  52, 
134,  135,  136, 
137,  139,  140, 
148,  294,  295, 
368. 

Mark,  Fiddle,  137. 
Medore,  Benjamin, 
47,  102,    118, 
137,  245. 
"Monkey,"  136. 
Napoleon,  136. 
Philip,   91. 
Piano,  119. 
William,  130. 
Beadin,  James,  245. 
Beers,  Cyrus,  261. 
Beggs,  Rev.  S.  R.,  62. 


487 


438 


INDEX 


Bender,  Major  George,  289. 
Bennett,  Samuel  C.,  68,  213, 

214,  215,  363,  364,  365. 
Berg,  Anton,  319. 
Beecher,  Jerome,  79,  80,  144. 
Bigelow,  Liberty,  341. 
"  Hub,"  212. 
Big  Foot  (Indian  Chief),  14, 

16. 

Lake,  15,  141. 
Bird,  Dr.  J.  H.,  195. 
Birkenbile,  C.  H.,  297. 
Black  Bird,  100,  101. 
Black  Hawk,  17,  18,  106. 

•  War,  14, 15, 16, 

18,  147. 
Black  George  White  (Town 

Crier),  255. 
Black  Laws,  429,  430. 
Black  Pete  McHenry  (Town 

Crier),  255,  256. 
Black  Partridge,  11,  100,  101. 
Blakesly,  Harvey,  135. 
Blaney,  Prof.  J.  V.  Z,  411. 
Blasy,  Bernhard,  52. 
Bliss,  S.  S.,  405,  406. 
Blocki,  William  F.,  416,  417, 

418,  419,  424,  425. 
Blodgett,  Isaac  P.,  252. 
Boat  Towing,  299,  303,  304, 

305. 

Board    of    Trade,    organiza- 
tion of,   259,  260,  261, 

264. 

Bolivin,  Nicholas,  245. 
Boone,    Dr.    Levi    D.,    386, 

387. 

Bonnann,  George,  407,  415. 
Boston  Fusileers,  83. 
Botsford,  J.  K,  50. 

&  Beers,  115. 
Bo  wen,  Erastus,  66. 
Bowman,  Henry,  403,  404. 

"Jim,"  91. 

Boyce,  Leroy  M.,  272,  273. 
Boyd,  Col'n,  108. 
Brackett,  Wm.  W.,  346,  348. 
Bradley,    Asa,     222,      223, 

322. 


Bradwell,  Judge    James    B., 

162,  163,  164, 

197,  358,  360, 

368. 

Myra  Colby,    163, 

164. 

Brady,  General,  111. 
Brandon  &  Borland,  253. 
Brayton,  Miss,  210,  211. 
Breakwaters,  290,  291. 
Breese,  Hon.  Sidney,  267. 
Brewster,  Hayden  &  Co.,  245. 
Bridges,  (see  early). 
Brig  Illinois,  25,  288,  327. 

Indiana,  327. 

Brinkerhoff,  Dr.  John,  149. 
Brookes,  Samuel,  120. 
Bross,  Hon.  William,  270,341. 
Bromly,  Mary,  117. 
Bronson,  Arthur  B.,  311,  383. 
Brown,  Col.  Charles,  253. 
Lockwood,  253. 
William  H.,  152,  208, 

253 

Bryan,  Hon.  T.  B.,  431. 
Buchanan,  Nelson,  80. 
Buffaloes,  111. 
Bullfrogs,  107,  226. 
Bull's  Head  Stock  Yards,265, 

341. 

Burch,  I.  H.  ,261,  271,  272. 
Burdell,  Nicholas,  115. 
Burley,  Arthur  G.,  80,  185, 

186. 

Augustus  H.,  261 . 
Burnham,  Ambrose,  153, 183, 

184. 
Bushnell,  William  H.,  347. 


Cady,  "  Old  Lying,"  157, 158. 
Caldwell,  Archibald,  40,  41, 

294. 
Calhoun,  Alvin,  50. 

John  C.,  52,  344. 
Calumet  Club,  137,  280. 
Camer,  Dave,  59. 
Campbell,  Maj.  James  B.,  60. 


INDEX 


439 


Canal,  Illinois    &    Michigan, 

309,310,311,312, 

313,314,315,316, 

317,  318. 

Celebration,  315,  316, 

317. 

Drainage,  306,  325. 
Packets,  318. 
Land,  309. 

Sale  of,  74,  75, 310, 
311,  312,  313, 
314. 

Canalport,  315. 
Canda,  Florimand,  242,  243. 
Carpenter,    Philo,    45,    102, 
148,  149,  150,  246,  247, 
248,  369. 

Carson,  David,  102. 
Cartoons,  348,  349. 
Cartwright,  Rev.  Peter,  147. 
Cass,  General  Lewis,  15,  398. 
Caton,  Judge  John  D.,  332. 
Cavalry,  Chicago,  371. 
Chacksfield,  George,  90. 
Chambly,  15. 

Chapin,  Lieut.  Alfred,  84. 
Rev.  E.  H.,  368. 
John  P.,  263,  385. 
Chapman,  Charles,     55,     67, 
102,  157,  158. 
Building,  365. 
Chappel,  Miss  Eliza,  208. 
Chase  Bros.  &  Co.,  274. 

S.  B.,  274. 

Checkered  Drug  Store,  149. 
Che-ca-go,  13. 
Che-ca-gou,  12,  13. 
Che-mo-co-mon-ess,  30. 
Chicago,  as   seen  from   Brig 
Illinois,  25,  26, 
27,  28,  29. 
Artillery,  177. 
Papers,    see   News- 
papers. 
Cavalry,  371. 
Churches,  see  Early 

Churches. 
Club,  116,  164. 
City  Railway,  144. 


Chicago  Councilmen,  127. 

College   of   Pharm- 
acy, 411,  412. 
Derivation  of  12,13. 
Hotel,  239. 
Hydraulic  Co.,   see 

H.  C. 
Historical    Society, 

344. 

Fire,  432,  433. 
Fire,  Cyclorama  of 

433. 

Farming,  242. 
Gas  Co.,  271,  272. 
Library  Association, 

270. 

Lyceum  (see  Lyce- 
um. 

Massacre,  126,  127. 
River,  11,  25, 285  to 

307  inclusive. 
Theatre,  254,  255. 
Title  &  Trust  Co., 

274. 
Town,   organization 

of,  47,  102. 
Chippewas,  108. 
Church,  Mary,  187. 

-    Melissa,  186,  187. 
Thomas,  50,  186, 187 

228. 

Churchill,  Jesse,  84,  85. 
Circago,  13. 
Circum  ago,  13. 
City  Hotel,  328. 
Clark  &  Haines,  80,  261. 

John  R.,  101. 
Clarke,  Lewis  W.  &  Co.,  249, 

250. 

General,  17. 
W.  H.  &  A.  F.,  248. 
H.  B.,  47,  153. 
Cleaver,  Charles,  250,  262. 
Cleaverville,  250. 
Clermont,  Alexis,  65,  66. 

Jenny,  101. 
Clybourn,  Archibald,  45, 101, 

145,  146,  147,  148,  264, 
Clay  County,  109. 


440 


INDEX 


Clay  Henry,  192, 193. 
Cobb,  Silas  B.,  58, 59, 80, 102, 
143,  144,  145,  279, 
280. 

Lecture  Hall,  144. 
Cob-web  Castle,  60. 
Colby,  Myra,  163,  164. 
Cole,  Jirah,  397. 
Collins,  George  C.,  212. 

James   H.,  50,    120, 

121. 
Cook  County,  42,  135. 

Medical  Socie- 
ty, 387. 

Hon.  Daniel  P.,  309. 
Isaac,  377,  378. 
Cooke,  Thomas,  52. 
Cooley,   Wadsworth   &   Co., 

263. 

Commerce,  increase  of,  303. 
Council  Bluffs,  109. 
Coutra,  Louis,  101. 
Couch,  Ira,  189. 

James,  189. 
Court  House  Square,  268. 

Second  Fire  Bell, 

281. 

Culver,  M.  D.,  118. 
Curtis,  James,  324,  385. 

Joe,  91. 
Cows  and  herding,  84,  85, 86, 

87. 

Crafts,  John,  101. 
Crews,  Elder,  359,  360. 
Crocket,  Davy,  351. 
Cushman,  Charlotte,  120. 


Dancing,  118. 
Darling,  E.,  102. 
Davenport,  George,  18. 
Davis,  David,  401. 

George,  119,  178,  179. 

William  H.,  118,  179. 

&  Martin,  179. 

Thomas  O.,  345. 
Dean,  John,  292. 

House,  291,  292,  293. 

Rev.  W.  W.,  364.  365. 


Dearborn,General  Henry,  11, 

13. 

Park, 269. 

Des  Plaines  River,  9,  15. 
Deutsche  Apotheke,  415. 
Dewey,  J.  S.  252. 
Dickey,  Hugh  T.,  75. 
Dole,  George  W.,  30,  31,  49, 

60,   102,  142,  143,  253, 

264,  377. 
Douglas,    Stephen    A.,    340, 

345,  377,  378,  391,  396, 

397,  398. 
Drawbridge,  254. 
Duffy,  Patrick,  225.  .* 

Dunham,  J.  H.,  261.        *WX 
DuPage  County,  135. 
Dyer,  Dr.    Charles   V.,    £93, 

294,295,296.' 
Thomas,  387. 
&  Chapin,  263. 


Early  Bells,  300. 

Bridges,    32,    294    to 

303  inclusive. 
Clarke  street,  296. 
Dearborn  Draw,  295. 
Lake  street,  295. 
Madison  street,  295. 
Miller's,  295. 
Randolph,  298. 
Van  Buren,  295. 
Bucket  Co.,  279. 
Churches,    Baptist, 

358. 

Catholic,  48,  213. 
Congregational,  149. 
Episcopalian,  359. 
Episcopalian  Fair, 

362,  363. 

Episcopalians,  61. 

Methodist,    44,    61, 

62,     357,     358, 

359,    360,    379. 

Presbyterian,  46,  51 , 

149,  358. 

Unitarian,  358,  363, 
370. 


INDEX 


441 


Early  Universalist,  364,  365, 
366,     367,     368, 

370,  371. 

Elections,113,114,115. 
Entertainments,      and 

how  we  reached 
them.  116,  117, 
118,  119. 

Farms  in  the  city,  6. 

Furniture  (see  Old 
Fashioned  Furni- 
ture.) 

Housekeeping,  121. 

Mayors,  383  to  390  in- 
clusive. 

Money,  253,  254,  257, 
258. 

Omnibusses,  265,  340, 
341. 

Packing  Business,  264, 
265,  266. 

Pianos,  119,  120. 

Roads,  229  to  236  in- 
clusive. 

Railroads,  232,  265. 

Schools  and  teachers, 
203,  204,  207  to 
217  inclusive,  384. 
Wilson,  81. 

School  books,  208. 

School  house,  Wat- 
kins,  60. 

Sunday  schools,  368  to 

371,  inclusive. 
Books,  369. 

Privations,  77,  78,  162, 

163. 

Speculating,  237  to  243 
inclusive,  31 1,312, 
313,  314. 
Sidewalks,  224. 
Streets,  43,  221  to  229, 

inclusive. 
Transportation     Cos., 

250. 

Erie  line,  327. 
Eagan,  Dr.  Wm.  B.,  60,  239, 

240,311,315. 
Eagan's  Row,  240. 


Eastman,  Abby,  217. 

F.  A.,  379. 

Ebert,  Albert  E.,  411,  412. 
Ehrman,  John  W.,  419. 
Elston,  Daniel,  44. 
Emmett,  Dan,  271. 
Envelopes,  374. 
Evarts,  Hon.  William,  402. 
Everett,  John,  157,  158,  159. 


Factory,    Government,    141, 

245. 

Farwell,  Charles  B.,  264. 
Field  &  Co.,  263. 
J.  V.,  263. 
William  D.,  264. 
Fergus,  Robert,  271. 
Ferries,  293,  294,  295,  296, 

297,  298. 
Field,  Marshall,  263. 

&  Leiter,  263,  264. 
Palmer  &  Leiter,  264. 
Marshall  &  Co.,  426. 
Fire  Alarms,  281. 

Buckets,  279,  280. 
Engines,  142,  277. 
Ordinances,  282,  283, 

284. 

Fires,  76,  77,  279,  280. 
First  band,  115. 

Board  of  town  trustees, 

143. 

Brick  Building,  3. 
Church  Bell,  281. 
Coal,  252. 

Confessionary,   132. 
Court  House,  51,  267, 

268. 

Donation  to  Fire  De- 
partment, 282. 
Factory,  143. 
Fox  River  Association 
of      Universalists, 
145. 

Framed  House,  139. 
Framed  store,  30. 
Jail    in    Cook    County, 
15. 


442 


INDEX 


First  Public  School  Building 
owned  by  the  city, 
207. 

Sidewalk,  197. 
Steam  Fire  Engine,  282. 
Tavern,  40. 
Theatre,  255,  389. 
Treasurer  of  Cook  Co., 

147. 

Warehouse,  29. 
White  Child,  123,  131, 

132,  133. 
Fishing,  83. 
Fish  story,  351. 
Fitch,  Henry  S.,  218. 
Forbes,  Elvira,    292. 
Stephen,  292. 
Ford,  David  M.,  217. 

Thomas,  130,  338. 
Fordham,  Jared,  93. 
John,  93. 
Oliver,  93. 
Foot,  Starr,  51. 
Forrest,  Joseph  K.  C.,  347. 
Forsythe,  Thomas,  16.  17. 
Fort  Adam,  8. 

Clark,  41,  123. 
Dearborn,  original,  9. 
Massacre,  99, 100, 101, 

125,  126,  127. 
The  Second,  5,  10,  27, 

106,  210,  211. 
Reservation,  108, 

130. 
School,  187,  209,  210, 

211. 

Howard,  15. 
St.  Joseph,  8. 
Wayne,  126. 
Foster,  George  F.,  261. 
Four  Mile  House,  232. 
Freer,  Judge  L.  C.   P.,  and 
a  happy  romance, 
81,  82. 

Nathan  M.,  82. 
Frink&  Bingham,  51,  75. 

Walker,  75,  332,  333. 
Walker's  Barn,  76. 
Freshet  of  1849,  223,  303. 


Fruit,  93,  94,  95,  96,   97. 
Fry,  General,  317,  365. 
Fuller,  Judge  Henry,  341. 
Fuller  &  Fuller,  417. 
Funk,  Peter,  75. 


Gage,  David,  341. 

Jared,  260,  261,  265. 
John,  260,  261. 
&  Haines,  261,  322. 
Gale,  Abram,  67,  68,  78,  79, 
83,   84,   251,   280, 
282,  365. 
Mrs.    (see    New    York 

Millinery.) 
Meat  Market,  78. 
Captain   Charles,    132, 

133. 

Georgiana,  69,  209. 
William  H.,  416. 
&  Blocki,  416,  418. 
Stephen    F.,    46,    102, 

187,  188. 
Galena  Rail  Road,  232,  265, 

338    339 

Galewood,  74,'  79,  87,  88,  243. 
GaUoway,  Mary,  147. 
Garrett,  Augustus,  384. 

Auction  Room,  363, 
Biblical      Institute. 

384. 

Garden  City  House,  199. 
Geneva    Lake,   15. 
German,  study  of,  405,  407. 
Gerts,  George  E.,  262. 
Gilbert,  James,  102. 
Gilmore,  R.  A.,  379. 
Gleason,  M.  B.,  217. 
Glenn,  Mrs.  L.  K.,  133. 
Goodhue,  Dr.  J.  C.,  103. 
Goodrich,  Judge  Grant,  358. 
Goss  &  Cobb,  43. 
Goss,  Oliver,  59. 
Goss'  Hat  Store,  365. 
Grant  County,  104. 
Grant,  General  U.  S.,  431. 
Graves'  Assembly  Room,  118. 
Dexter,  50. 


INDEX 


443 


Graves,  Harry,  105. 
Sheldon,  240. 
Gordon,  C.  U.,  381. 
Gray,  Frank,  116. 

Charles  M.,  386. 

John,  239. 

Joseph,  93,   116,   164, 

165 

Gregory,  D.  S.  &  Co.,  249. 
Green,  George  W.,  242. 
General,  18. 
Bay,  10,  65,  104,  124. 
Tree  Tavern,  31,  35, 
36,  37,  38,  39,  40; 
42,    57,    58,    59; 
135. 
Gurnee,  Walter  S.,  261,  270, 

324,  385. 

Gurley,  John  A.,  367. 
Guthrie,  Alfred,  304,  305. 
Ossian,  304,  305. 
Samuel,  304. 
Wardell,  304. 
Miss  Jessie,  93. 

Haines,  John  C.,   114,  261, 

316,  388. 
Hall,  J.  B.,  329. 
Halls,  Public,  190,  269,  271, 

272,  269,  376. 
Hamilton,  Elanor,  160. 

Coin.  R.  J.,  60, 
102,  159,  160, 
161,  208,  253, 
315 

Richard!  160,  214. 
A.  C.,  249. 
Coin.  William  S., 
122,  124,  134, 
147. 

Hamlin,  John,  124,  135,  223. 
Handy,  H.  H.,  217. 
Hannahs,  J.  M.,  89. 
Hanson,  Oliver  C.,  52,  67. 

H.  C.,  422,  443,  424. 
Hapgood,  D.  J.,  102. 
Hart,  Julia  E.,  217. 
Harmon,  Isaac  D.,  49,  118. 

&  Loomis,  46,  118. 


Hermon,  J.  K.,  264. 
Harper,  Richard,  271. 
Hatheway,  J.  P.,  102,  103. 
Hatton,  General  Frank,  353. 
Harris,  Jacob,  272. 
Harrison,  William    H.,    114, 

115,  376. 
Celebration,   115, 

116. 

Hastings,  Hiram,  242. 
Hatch,  David,  76. 
James,  81. 

Hayes,  S.  S.,  396,  397,  398. 
Heald,  Captain  Nathan,  99, 

126, 127,  133. 
Hemingway,  A.  T.,  417. 
Herding  cows,  84,  85,  86,  87. 
Hessing,  Washington,  380. 
Higgins,  Floyd,  375. 
Hodson,  John  H.,   198. 
Hoard,  Samuel,  378. 
Hoffman,  Charles  Fenno,  104, 

105. 

Francis  A.,  163. 
Hogan,  John  S.  C.,  45,  102, 
248,  249,  315,  373,  374, 
375,  376,  380. 
Hog  Pound,  52. 
Holdeman's  Grove,  332. 
Holden,  Hon.  Charles  C.  P., 

209,  292. 

Holtz,  Christopher,  263. 
Horse  Cars,  341. 
Hooker,  H.  M.,  419. 
J.  W.,  80,  81. 
Lewis,  316. 

Hook  &  Ladder  No.  1, 152. 
Honore  Block,  379. 
Hoosiers,  79,  80,  94,  95,  96, 

97,  168,  169,  255,  260. 
Howe,  F.  A.,  75. 
How  they  paid  notes  and  due 

bills,  251,  252. 

Hubbard,  Gurdon  S.,  30,  31, 
59,  103,  140, 
141,  142,  253, 
264,  277,  316, 
327. 
E.  K.,  253, 


444 


INDEX 


Hubbard,'  Henry,  289. 
Hubbard's  Brick  Warehouse, 
Hoyne,  Hon.  Thomas,   197, 

198. 
House  Moving,  75. 

253. 
Hugunin,  Hiram,  289. 

Captain  L.C.,  18, 44, 
170,  171,  288, 
289. 
Judge    Peter    D., 

289. 

Hunt,  Captain,  386. 
Josiah,  411. 
Hunter,  General  David,  50, 

60,  123,  124,  125. 
Hunting  in  the  city,  88,  89, 

90,  91,  92,  171. 
Hurlbut,  Horace  A.,  404, 405, 

407,  423. 
Hydraulic  Co.,  321,  322,  323. 

Illinois  Central  Railroad  Co., 

339,  340. 
Exchange,    52,    136, 

328. 

River,  15. 

Indians,  105,  106,  107,  108, 
109,   110,   111, 
112,  350. 
Michigan,  111. 
and  Piano  Music,  69, 

70. 

Indian  Annuities,  107. 
Barsous,  55. 
Encampment,  53,  54, 

55. 

Massacre,  55,  56,  57. 
Murders,  110,  111. 
Payments,  110. 
How    Made,     107, 

108. 
Removals,    109,    110, 

111,  112. 
Reservations,        108, 

130. 

Territory,  109. 
Traders,  101,  146. 
Trail,  44,  65. 


Indian  Tragedy,  92, 129. 

Trinkets,    7,    11,    12, 

108. 

Vampires,  107. 
War  Dance,  109. 
Ingalls,  Dr.  E.,  187,  418. 
George  A.,  187. 
Mrs.  George  A.,  187. 
Inter  Ocean,  380. 
Internal  Improvements  (see 
Speculation.) 


Jackson,  A.  V.,  289. 
Hall,  181. 
Samuel  T.,  289. 
Jail,  log,  51. 
Jefferson  &  McKenzie,  255. 

Joseph,  255. 
Jenks,  Charles  L.,  426. 
Jenkins,  Thomas,  252. 
Jenny  Lind,  190. 
Jo  Daviess  County,  147. 
Johnson,  Frances  Jane,  368. 
Dr.  H.  A.,  404. 
Captain  Lathrop, 

53,  70,  368. 
&  Stevens,  53. 
Jones,  Alonzo  D.,  155. 
Benjamin,  29. 
Fernando,  47,  85,  118, 
135, 136, 152, 154, 
155, 240, 274, 316, 
394. 

Kyler  K,  152. 
William,  47,  50,  151, 

152,  153,  154. 
&  Sellers,  274. 
Wyley,  110,  111. 
Judd,  Norman  B.,  270,  401. 

S.  Corning,  380. 
Ka-we-ko,  65,  66. 
Keenan,  Mrs.  E.  H.,  92. 
Kellogg,  Sarah,  207. 
S.  M.,  264. 
Keokuk,  18,  106. 
Kercheval,  Gholson,  102,  169 
Lewis  C.,  169,  170 
Kerosene,  121,  122. 


INDEX 


445 


Kettlestrings,    Joseph,    420, 

421. 
Kimball,  Walter,  47, 102,  253 

315,  316. 
&  Porter,  47. 
Martin  N.,  240. 
Kimbark,  Mrs.  S.  D.,  186. 
Kimberly,  Dr.   Edmund   S., 
46,  102,  165, 
166. 

Mrs.  E.  S.,  119. 
John,  166. 
Louis,  166. 
King,  Byran,  47,  153. 

Jones  &  Co.,  47,  151, 

316. 

Nathan,  51,  169. 
Tuthill,  51,  168,  169. 
Louis,  153. 
Rev.  W.  W.,  153. 
Kinzie,  Ellen  M.,  124. 

House,  292,  373. 
James,  40,  41,  57,  58, 

59,  102. 

John,  14,  40,  57,  59, 
101,     122,     123, 
143,  146. 
John  H.,  48, 113,125, 

253. 
Maria  Indiana,   123, 

124,  125. 

Robert  A.,  48,  118, 
169,  241,  242, 
245. 

Addition,  241. 
&  Hunter,  48. 
Knight,  Darius,  199,  200. 


Laflin,  Matthew,     136,    137, 

181,  182,  198. 
&  Mills,  198. 
Lafromboise,  C.  101., 

Joseph,  44, 101, 
130,  154, 
245. 

Josette,  27,130. 
Theresia,  154. 
Lager  Beer  Riot,  386. 


Lane,  Albert  Grannis,  87, 88, 

Henry  S.,  401. 
Lake  House,  59,  328. 
County,  135. 
Parties,  222. 
Street  Pike,  231,  232, 

233. 

Larrabee,  William,  370. 
La  Salle,  Robert  Cavalier,  12, 

13. 

Leavenworth,  Miss  Ruth,209. 
Lieutenant   J. 

H.,210. 

Leiter,  Levi  Z.,  263,  264. 
Le  Mai  Pierre,  14,  123. 
License,  Bar  and  Inn,  38. 
Ferry,  135,  294. 
Light  House,  199,  323,  327. 
Lincoln,  Abraham,  190,  290, 
364,   397,   398, 
399,  400. 
Cooper    Institute 
Speech,  399, 
400. 

First  Nomination 
for  Presiden- 
cy, 400,  401, 
402. 

Solomon,  55. 
Lind's  Block,  300,  417. 
Lloyd,  Alexander,  384. 
Loco    Foco    Administration, 

352,  353. 

Locust  Trees  of  Fort  Dear- 
born, 15. 

Loomis,  H.  G.,  261. 
Long,  Eugene,  199. 

James,  199,  321,  323. 
John  Conant,  199. 
Lotteries,  249,  250. 
Loughton,  B.  H.,  245. 
Lumbard,  Frank,  297,  298. 

Jule,  297,  298. 
Lumber,  Pine,  53. 
Lyceum,  Chicago,   218,   270, 

407. 
Normal  School,  218. 

Magie,  H.  H.,  55. 


446 


INDEX 


Mail  Carriers,  65,  66. 
Mallory,  H.,  115. 
Manford,  Rev.  E.,  364. 
Manley,  Rev.  William  E., 

365,  366,  367. 
Manning,  Joel,  313. 
Mansion  House,  49,  105,  118, 

328 

Map  of  the  U.  S.  in  1832.  7. 
Maple  Sugar,  112. 
Marble,  Dan.,  255. 
Marsh,  H.  L.  B.,  217. 
Sylvester,  251. 
Marshall,  James  A.,  48,  107, 
108,  116,  167,  168,  313, 
349. 
Market,   Funk's,  75. 

North  Side,  266. 
State    Street,   266, 

267. 

West  Side,  266. 
Mason,  Roswell  B.,  389,  390. 
Matches,  Loco  Foco,  283. 
Maxwell,  Dr.  Philip,  364. 
Mechanic's  Institute,  270. 
Meeker,  Joseph,  51,  103,  369, 

370,   371. 

Metropolitan  Hall,  272. 
Meyer,  Leopold,  217. 
Miamis,  8,  11,  126,  127. 
Mill,  Aux  Plaine,  Bickerdike 
&  Kettlestring's,  42, 
289. 

Hydraulic,195,  322, 385. 
Gage  &Haines,  260, 261. 
Walker's,  41. 
Miller,  Samuel,  57,  245,  294, 

295. 

John, 102. 
Tavern,  57. 
Milliken,  Isaac  L.,  199,  200, 

386. 

Miltimore,  Ira,  321. 
Mills,  Luther  Laflin,  198. 

Walter  N.,  198. 
Miner,  Dr.,   162. 
Mitchell,  Alexander,  257. 

Frederick,  87. 
Mo-a-way,  40. 


Morris,  Buckner  S.,  383. 
Moseley  &  McCord,  45. 
Murphy,  Hiram,  217. 

John,  52. 

Morrison,  Alderman,  225. 
Mulligan,  Gen'l  James  Adel- 
bert,  190,  191, 
192,  218. 
His  child  and  Gen. 

Grant,  431. 
Myrick,  William  F.,  240,  241, 

265. 

McArthur,  General  John,379. 
McCormick's  Factory,  263. 
McElroy,  Daniel,  366. 
McGavin,  John,  242,  322. 
McGilvra,  J.  J.,  218. 
McGlashen,  John,  89,  242. 
Mrs.,  89,  93. 

McGlashen's  Woods,  89,  93. 
McGraw,  James,  242. 
McKee,  David,  101, 
r,  J.  H.,  389. 


Naper,  Joseph,  245 
Neder,  E.  A.,  102. 
Needer,  James,  245. 
Newhall,  "  Bill,"  281. 
Nensir,  William,  102. 
Newberry,  Oliver,    46,   245, 

264. 
&  Dole,  47,  252, 

260. 

W.  C.,  381. 
Walter    L.,    114, 

181,  270. 

Walter    L.'s    Li- 
brary, 181, 
270. 
Newspapers,  Paid  for  in  truck 

349,  350. 
American,  105, 
343,  348, 
349,  350, 
351,  352, 
353. 

Better    C  o  v  e  - 
nant,  348. 


INDEX 


447 


Newspapers,  Democrat,     47, 

343,  344, 

345,  347. 

Express,     346, 

348,  349. 
Gem  of  the  Prai- 
rie, 347. 
I  n  t  e  1 1  igencer, 

343. 

Journal,     346, 
347,  353, 
354,  355, 
433. 
Mail,  353. 
Tribune,  347. 
New  Virginia,  44. 
New  York  House,  53,   118, 

179  328 
New  York  Millinery,  69,  73, 

74,  76,  77,  78,  79,  80. 
Nichols,  Luther,  222. 
Noble,  John,  141,  264. 
Mark,  62,  264. 
Norton,  Henry  &  Williams, 

260. 
North  Western  Territory,  10, 

125. 
Noyes,  William,  300. 

Ogden,  William  B.,  103,  113, 
153,  261,  311, 
383. 

Subdivision,  312. 
Old  Black  Pete,  255,  256. 
Black  George,  255. 
Conditions,   35,   36,   37, 

38,  39. 
Fashioned  Bonnets,  73, 

74. 

Furniture,  39,  70,  71,  72. 
Geese,  40,  41,  161. 
Rowley,  229. 
Shady,  397,  398. 
Timer,  347. 
Settlers,  274,  275. 
Oldest  settler  in  Cook  Coun- 
ty, 131,  132. 
O'Malley,  Charlie,  185. 
Osborn,  T.  0.,  379. 


Our  Early  Neighbors,  69,  70, 

75,  76,  79,  80,  81. 
And  how  some  of  them 
amused  themselves, 
79,  80. 

Owen,  Col'n  J.  V.,  60,  102. 


Palmer,  Frank,  265,  341. 

Julia  (Schooner),  93, 

164. 

Potter,  264. 
Park,  George  A.,  341. 
Parmelee,  Frank,  265,  341. 
Party  Spirit,  351,  352.' 
Pee-So  Turn,  127. 
Peacock,  Charles,  180. 
Elijah,  180. 
Joseph,     55,     179, 

180,  181. 
Peck,  P.  F.  W.,  45,  77,  102, 

150,  151. 
Charles,  80. 
Walker  &  Co.,  245. 
Peck's  Store,  45,  150,  368. 
Pearsall,  Rollo,  232. 
Pearsons,  Hiram,  102,  161. 
Perkins,  J.  D.,  339. 
Periolot,  Caesar,  66. 
Peoria,  41,  124. 

County,  41,  123. 
Philbric,  George  A.,  206. 
Pianos,  Early,  119,  120. 
Pickering,  CaptaiHh,  288. 
Pierce,  Asahel,  44,  262. 
Pierson,  John,  231,  232. 
Piers,  289,  290. 
Pioneers,  Early,  119,  120. 

Club,  292. 
Price,  William,  378. 
Plain  People,  200,  201. 
Population  of  Chicago,  101, 

102,  103,  104,  105. 
Porter,  Rev.  Jeremiah,  46. 
Post  Masters  and  Post  Offi- 
ces (see  Early) . 
Pottawattomies,    8,   11,    18, 

108,  127. 
Powder  House,  198. 


448 


INDEX 


Prairie  Fires,  87. 

Roads,  233,  234. 
Tailor,  55. 
Schooners,  94,  95,  96, 

97. 

Pratt,  Taylor  &  Co.,  227. 
Pruyne,  Peter,  165,  253. 

Mrs.,  120,186. 
&Kimberly,  46,165. 
Public  Halls,  267, 268, 269. 
Square,  53,  218. 

Quash  Quame,  16,  17. 
Queal,  Rev.  Wm.,  363. 

Rail  Roads,  232. 
Randolph  Street  Lot,  75,  77. 
Rauch,  Dr.  J.  H.,  411. 
Raymond,   B.  W.,  76,  383, 

384. 
Reed,  Charles,  264. 

J.  H.,  272,  403,  404, 
405, 407, 408, 409, 
410,411. 

&  Co.,  195,  197,  198, 
261,403,404,405, 
406, 407, 408, 409, 
410. 

Reese,  James  H.,  273. 
Rehm,  Jacob,  322. 
Reis,  Jacob,  319. 

John,  306,  319. 
Michael,  319. 
Peter,  319. 
Reichter,  Jacob,  117. 
Republican    Wigwam,     139, 
400,  401,  402,  407,  408. 
Reynold's  Packing  House,93. 
Reservation,  Fort  Dearborn, 

51,  384. 

Rice,  Jacob,  329. 
John,  389. 

Riparian  Rights,  290. 
River  Forest,  180,  424,  425. 
Roads  (see  Early  Streets). 
Robinson,  Alexander,  16, 17, 
101,  139,  140 
157. 
Joe,  90,  91. 


Rockwood,  James,  63. 
Rogers,  Edward  K,  261. 

William,  271. 
Ross  &  Foster,  273. 
Rosenfield  &  Rosenberg,  80. 
Rotten  Row,  273. 
Rounesville,    Rev.    William, 

348. 
Rucker,  Edward  A.,  273. 

Judge  H.   L.,   119, 

273 
Rumsey,  A.  Z.,  212,  213. 

Julian,  S.  389,  426, 

427. 

Rush  Medical  College,  166. 
Russell,  Jacob,  49. 
John,  26. 
Captain    J.    B.    F., 

109,  315. 
&  Craft,  46. 
Ryder,  Rev.  Dr.  W.  H.,  368. 

Saloon  Building,  269,  376. 
Sam  Patch,  212. 
Sanger,  Capt.  J.  G.,  371. 
Sanitary  Fair,  431. 
Satterlee,  M.  L.,  51. 
Sauganash    Hotel,    31,    135, 

139,  140,  400. 
Sau-ga-nash,    Indian    Chief, 

16,  18,  139,  140. 
Saux  &  Foxes,  16, 17, 106t 
Saw  Mills,  42,  43. 
Sawing  Wood,  83,  84. 
Sawyer's  Female  Seminary, 

219. 

Sawyer,  Sidney  S.,  76. 
Scammon,  Dr.  Franklin,  411. 
J.   Y.,    152,    184, 

185 

Schoellkopf,  Henry ,'425,  426. 
Schoolcraft,  101. 
Schafer,  Wm.  A.,  387,  388. 
Schools  (see  Early). 
Schuttler,  Peter,  262,  263. 
Sunday  Schools  (see  Early). 
School  Section,  Sale  of,  204, 
205. 


INDEX 


School  of  Cicero,   205,   206, 

207. 

Directors,  152. 
Fund,  204,  206,  208. 
Dearborn,  215,  216. 
Fort    Dearborn,    (see 

Fort). 

Schneider,  George,  323,  324. 
Schaumburg,  162,  163. 
Scott,  General  Winfield,  19, 

49,  106,  194,  195. 
Scratchin,  A.,  178. 
Scottish    Illinois    Land    In- 
vestment Co.,  178,  259. 
Scripps,  John  L.,  378. 
See,  William,  44,  61,  62. 
Seaverns,    Charles    H.,    397, 

398. 

Selling  beans,  81. 
Sellers,  274. 
Seward,  William  H.,  399, 400, 

402. 

Seger,  Joseph,  319. 
Sexton,  J.  A.,  381. 
Shabonee,  15,  16. 

Grove,  110J 
Sharpe,  Mrs.  C.  A.,  82. 
Sheridan,  General  Philip,390. 
Sherman,  Alanson,  S.  384. 
Ezra  L.,  253. 
Francis  C.,  52, 317, 

384. 

Francis  T.,  379. 
General  W.  T.,431. 
Shuman,  Hon.  Andrew,  195. 

346,  347. 

Shortall  &  Hoard,  274. 
Sibley,  Major,  109. 
Sidewalks,  (see  Early). 
Silloway,  Mary,  120. 
Sinclair,  John,  62. 
Simons,  John,  133. 
Six  Mile  House,  232. 
Skinner,  Mark,  270. 
Slavery  Question  in  Illinois, 

391,  392,  393,  398. 
Slavery  Question  in  Chicago, 
391,  393,  394,  395,  397, 
398. 


Slave,   Runaway,  393,  394, 

396 
Smith,  E.  K,  118. 

George,  74,  75,  177, 

178,  257,  258. 
James,  258. 
Mathias,  102. 
S.  Lisle,  49,  192,  193, 

194. 

Judge  T.  W.,  315. 
Snow,  G.  W.,  45,  53, 102,  315. 
Somers,  James,  225. 
Speculation  (see  Early). 
Spring,  Judge  Giles.  118,  251, 

315 

Squatters,  106,  122. 
Staats,  Rev.  H.  T.,  200. 
Staats  Zeitung,  334,  335,  336, 

337,  338. 

Stage  Office,  Frink  &  Walk- 
er's, 75. 
Barn,  76. 

Stages,  76,  332,  333. 
State      Internal      Improve- 
ments,   334,    335,    336, 
337,  338. 
State  Street  Hall  and  Market, 

190. 

Stearns,  Marcus  C.,  261. 
Stebbins  &  Reed,  404. 
Steele,  Ashbel,  50,  52,  53,  67, 

317. 
Steiner,    William,   421,   422, 

423,  424, 

Stevens,  George,  53. 
Stewart,  (carpenter),  62. 
Stewart,  Hart  L.,  377. 
Stillman,  General,  18. 
Stone,  H.  O.,  151,  259,  260. 
Stose,  Clemens,  45. 
Streets    (see    Early    Streets 

and  Roads). 
Stuart,    William,    346,    376, 

377. 

Sturtevant,  A.  D.,  215,  216. 
"Stump  Tail"  Money,  258, 

259. 

Sweet,  Alanson,  51. 
Sweeney,  John,  89. 


450 


INDEX 


Swett,  Leonard,  401. 

Swift,  Richard  K.,  174,  175, 

176,  177,  366. 

Qwimming  in  the  lake,  183, 
84. 


Talcott,  Mancel,  243. 
Taylor,  Aug.  Deodat,  48. 

Benjamin    F.,     195, 

196,  346. 
Charles,  42,  110. 

Mrs.,  368. 

Col.  E.  D.,  253,  315. 
Temple,  Dr.  J.  T.,  45,  102, 

197,  332. 
Leonara,  197. 
Thatcher,  Clara,  181. 

David  C.,  179, 180, 

181. 

Mrs.,  180. 
David,  Jr.,  181. 
George,  181. 
Solomon,  Jr.,  181. 
Thomas,  F.,  47. 

Jesse  B.,  217. 

Thompson,  James,  139,  309. 
Thompson's  Bank  Note  Re- 
porter, 258,  259. 
Throop,  Amos  G.,  199,  200, 

201. 

Polytechnic     Insti- 
tute, 200. 
Tinder  Boxes,  283. 
Tippecanoe  Boys,  114, 115. 
Town  of  Chicago,  309,  310. 
Town  Criers,  255,  256. 

Trustees,  60,  102, 143, 

383. 
Transportation      Companies 

(see  Early). 

By  land  and  water,  327, 
328,  329,  330,  331, 
332    333 
Tremont  House,  51,  76,  189, 

190,  277,  322,  328. 
Trees,     Cottonwood,  Honey 
Locusts  &  Poplars    26. 
27. 


Tripp,    Robinson,    52,    197, 

359 

Tugs,  30,  301,  302,  303. 
Tuley,  Judge  Murray  F.,  161, 

422,   423. 
Tyler,  Elmer,  75. 
Tupper,  Chester,  75,  365. 

United  States  Hotel,  328. 
Unitarian  Bell,  281. 

Society,  145,  269. 
Union  Stock  Yards,  665,  666. 
Universal ists    (see    Earlv 
Churches). 

Vannata,  Harry,  91. 
Veteran    Druggists    Associa- 
tion, 246,  412. 
Verses : 

Cyclorama  of  Chicago  Fire, 

433,  434,  435,  436. 
Chapman  and  Cady,  157. 
Nearing   the   End   of  the 

Road,   235,   236. 
Old  Black  Pete,  255,  256. 
The   Chicago   River,    306, 

307. 

The  Hoosiers,  96,  97. 
The  Maid  who  always  call- 
ed for  me,  353,  354, 
355. 

The  Stream  of  my  child- 
hood, 285. 
Retrospective,  6. 

Wa-Ba,  30. 
Wa-ba-no,  118. 
Wadsworth,  Elisha,  263. 

Dyer  &  Chapin, 

263,  387. 
&  Phelps,  263. 
Wagstaff,  Capt.  Jack,  25,  29, 

154. 

Waite,  George  W.,  339. 
Walker,  Rev.  Jesse,  61,  357. 
Walker's  Cabin,  357. 
Mill,  41. 
Grove,  59. 


INDEX 


451 


Walker,  Charles,  259,  261, 

388. 

&  Co.,  280. 
Martin  O.,  341. 
S.  B.,  341,  366. 
Walter,  Vigil  C.,  323. 
Walters,  Joel  C.  &  Co.,  260. 
Wamus,  162,  163. 
Ward  Boundries,  298. 
Warehouses,  29,  253. 
Ward,  Capt.  E.  B.,  252. 
Warner,  Hiram,  252. 

Seth  P.,  50, 170, 174, 

271. 

Warner's  Hall,  173,  271. 
Warren,  Col'n.  Daniel,  144. 
Washingtonians,  170. 
Water  Street,  106. 

Shed  of  Des   Plaines 
river     and      the 
North   Branch, 
303,  304. 
Carts,  320. 

Supply,  319  to  326  in- 
clusive. 

Watkins,  John,  60,  102. 
Thos.,  45,  154. 
Watkin's  School  House,  60. 
Wells,  Captain  Wm.,  126, 127. 
Street,  126. 
Seth,  271. 
Public,  60,  61. 
Wattles,  Wm.  Wallace,  42. 
Welch,  Benjamin  C.,  176,  340 

366,  403. 
John,  242. 
Patrick,  242. 
Wellington,  E.  F.,  271. 
Wentworth,  Elijah,    40,    41, 

161. 

Hon.  John,  137, 
181,  182,  183, 
185,  310,  324, 
345,  388. 
Hon.  Moses,  344. 
Western  Stage  Office,  75. 
West,  Thomas,  319. 
Wheeler,  Prof.  C.  Gilbert,322s 
Marcellus,  216. 


Whig  Administration,   352, 

353. 

Barbecue,  115,  116. 
Whiskey  Point,  229,  230,  232, 

234. 
Road,     229, 

234. 

Whistler,  Capt.  John,  14. 
Whitehead,  Rev.  Henry,  62, 

358,  359. 
W.  H.,  358. 
White,    Alexander,    48,    80, 

174. 

Whiting,  W.  L.,  261. 
Whitlock,  Antoinette,   81,  82 
Cornelia,  81. 
Thomas,  81. 
Witbeck,  John,  219. 
Wide  Awakes,  387,  388. 
Widow  Berry  Pike,  230. 

Point,  230,  231. 
Wigwam,    Republican,    (see 

Republican). 
Wilde,  Ellen,   217. 
Wilcox,  Myra  D.,  179. 
Wilder's  Woods,  89. 
Wild  Onions,  13. 
Will  Co.,  135. 
Williams,  Hobart,  212. 
Wilmot,  A.,  101. 
Wilson  Charles  L.,  346. 

Richard  L.,  171,  346, 

377. 

Professor,  216. 
Winans,  Mrs.  Susan  Simons, 

133,    134. 

Winnebagos,  14,  15,  108. 
.  Winning  my  sword,  83,  84. 
Wisconsin  Marine  &  Fire  In- 
surance Co.,257, 
258. 

Known  as  Brown 
Co.,  Michigan  Ter- 
ritory, 147. 

Wissincraft,  Charles,  63. 
Walcott,  Dr.  Alexander,  101, 

124,  135. 

Wolves,  85,  90,  91,  92. 
Wolf  Point,  41. 


452 


INDEX 


Wolf  Tavern,  32, 40,  293,  368. 
Wood  worth,  James  H.,  385. 
Wright,  Ed.,  216. 

John  S.,  48, 102, 103. 

Sarah,  217. 


Yoe,  P.  L.,  385. 
Young  America,  377. 

Men's  Association,  270, 
271. 


